Ian
by CheerfulChemist
Summary: 4fireking suggested a story where Castle has a son instead of a daughter. This is obviously AU. It starts at the beginning when Rick meets Kate. Ian is not a male Alexis. He has challenges but is determined to overcome them. Rick helps the best he can. I own nothing Castle except my dreams.
1. Chapter 1

Ian

Chapter 1

Ian looked up from his drawing board as his father knocked on the door frame of his room. "How was your pre-party meeting with Gina, Dad?"

"Pretty much as expected. She screamed at me again for killing off Derrick Storm. She can't understand how bored I got with the character."

"We I do," Ian responded. "I've just started a new one. His name is Dweeby. He defeats super-villains by spewing an overflow of verbiage. Their heads explode. Very cool to draw. Wanna see?"

Castle walked behind his son to look at the sketches Ian was transferring to Bristol board. "Very cool indeed. I like the way you drew the brain splatter patterns, gruesome and fascinating at the same time. I wish I could think of a new character this interesting. I need some inspiration - besides Gina threatening to have Black Pawn dump me."

"Maybe you'll find some at the party tonight," Ian offered. "You usually find signing women's chests inspiring."

Castle sighed. "Nice, but wrong kind of inspiration. If I'm going to write a woman, I want her sexy, but not simpering, someone with a mind of her own."

"Well good luck finding someone like that at a book launch party Dad."

"Are you coming?" Castle asked. "Besides your gram and Gina you may be the only non-simpering presence in the room."

"Sure," Ian agreed, "I can practice sketching figures in the crowd. My art teacher gave us some new tips I want to try out."

* * *

Castle's fingers were cramping around his marker. Whoever would have thought that he'd get tired of adulation? He needed something new, really new. He was startled out of his private pity party when he heard a woman's husky alto voice behind him. "Richard Castle?"

Castle turned around see mesmerizing green flecked hazel eyes above knife-edged cheekbones. He held up his marker, drawing an uneven breath. "Where do you want it?"

"The Twelfth Precinct, actually," A slim-fingered hand stuck a badge in his face. "Detective Kate Beckett. I need to ask you some questions about some murders."

Castle gazed at the beautiful cop. Inspiration was looking him in the face. "Fine! Great!This should be interesting. Just give me a minute to make sure my son gets home okay. His grandmother is here but I don't know how much champagne she's had."

Castle pulled out his wallet to make sure Ian had cab fare and handed the money to his son, explaining why he had to leave. Returning to Beckett, Castle swept his arm forward with a little bow. "Lead the way, Detective."

* * *

Kate studied the file in front of her. "You've led an interesting life, Mr. Castle. Stealing a police horse? Nude?"

"I didn't steal it, I borrowed it," Castle protested. "I was working out a scene for one of my novels where Derrick Storm was chasing someone who broke in and tried to kill his um, companion. The horse was the only thing that was handy. He got the guy, too."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Yes I remember, I read the book. Hardly realistic. These days a cop in a neighborhood like that would be more likely to have a bicycle than a horse. But nude?"

"I wasn't," Castle argued. "I can't imagine how much that would chafe. The essentials were covered, it's just that the covering was very - brief. Anyway, the charges were dropped. The mayor's a fan. Obviously so are you, if you remember the scene. It was only a couple of paragraphs. But Detective Beckett, you said you wanted to talk about murders, not my equestrian pursuits. How can I help you?"

Beckett passed a photograph of a woman with flowers on her eyes and a body covered in rose petals, across the table. "Look familiar?"

Castle blanched. " _Flowers for Her Grave_. Someone actually committed a murder like this?"

Kate put another picture in front of him. "More than one murder."

Castle regarded the figure in the pentagram. " _Hell Hath No Fury_ , except that the symbol on the chest is wrong. I can understand why someone might have trouble getting a copy of that book as a reference. It was definitely one of my less popular works. But who would murder someone this way?"

Kate leaned across the table, her eyes narrowing. "I was hoping you could tell me."

"What? You think I did this? Detective I only kill people on the page. It pays better. And there's no way the mayor could get me out of a murder charge. Obviously someone has developed an obsession with me or my books and is using them, if somewhat inaccurately as blueprints for murders."

"Perhaps," Mr. Castle," Kate acceded. "But I'll need to check your alibis for the times of death."

"Check away, Detective," Castle invited. "My life is, so to speak, an open book."

Kate put down the phone and breathed a sigh of relief. Rick Castle had been exactly where he'd said he'd been during the time of the murders. He wasn't guilty. She remembered, even if he didn't, when she'd stood in line for an hour to get him to sign her book. She remembered curling up in misery after her mother died and running her fingers over his picture on a book jacket. Tonight, with a days growth of stubble defining his jawline, he looked even more handsome. In fact he was devastatingly handsome. But she couldn't afford to be devastated. She had a murderer to catch and Castle was still a potential source of information. There was work to do. Stiffening her shoulders, she returned to the interrogation room.

"Okay, Mr. Castle..."

"Rick, please," he interrupted.

"Mr. Castle," she repeated, "your alibis hold. So who would have an obsession with you or your work? Is any of your fan mail disturbing?"

"It is when someone sexts me a picture of something hairy that would have better remained a mystery," Castle replied, "but Black Pawn keeps files of my fan mail. They use them to build mailing lists to push my books. I can arrange to have them turned over to you, if we go through them together."

"Why do you want to do that?" Kate asked, feeling a discomfiting tingle of excitement. "Morbid curiosity?"

"No, because if someone is using my books to commit murder, I feel responsible. I want to help you catch them. No one knows my books better than I do. I think I can be helpful. Anyway, that's the deal. You want those documents, you cut me in. Or I could call the mayor."

Kate thought about what it would take to get a warrant for the records of a publishing company. Her chances were pretty slim. And even if she'd never admit it, Rick Castle had invaded her dreams on more than one occasion. Maybe this would be the way to get him out of her system. "Fine." she agreed.

* * *

Castle slipped off his shoes as he returned to his loft in lower Manhattan. Ian had a couple of hours left before he had to get up for school and Rick didn't want to disturb him. As talented as the boy was as an artist, his grades in anything except art were borderline at best. It wasn't that Ian wasn't smart. His memory was encyclopedic and he could help Castle work his way through the knottiest problems with his plots. Ian wasn't lazy either. But he inverted words, and letters often swam before his eyes. What was easy for the other kids was torture for Ian, even with the help of the best of tutors. Still the boy kept plugging away. He wanted to draw graphic novels and he was determined to succeed. Sometimes Rick wished he had Ian's guts. He padded quietly up the stairs to check on his sleeping son.


	2. Chapter 2

Ian

Chapter 2

Despite her salivation at the prospect of the publicity Black Pawn might derive from a serial killer's emulation of the murders in her ex-husband's books, Gina Griffin was determined to keep a firm hand on Castle's reins. "Rick, if you want me to release those letters to the N.Y.P. D., I need something from you first."

Castle regarded the hard edged lines of the his publisher's blond ambition. At times he was still bewildered as to why he'd married her. After his precious Kyra passed away, his baby boy and his writing should been more than enough to fill both his days and his nights. But loneliness and grief had clouded his mind and Gina had seemed a sympathetic refuge. Back then,

Castle hadn't hadn't wanted to peer behind the curtain, but now he too clearly saw the merciless control freak it had concealed. "Alright, here we go again," he thought. "What do you want, Gina?"

"What I should already have, the first chapter of a new book. You send me that, and you can trail around after the cops working on your newest fascination."

He had one. Unable to go back to sleep after Ian had left for school that morning, Castle had begun crafting a story around his new heroine. Well Gina didn't need to know that. She'd only press him harder, which would give him even less time with Beckett. "You're going to kill me Gina," he responded. "You know how hard it is to build a character from scratch."

"Well that's your own fault, isn't it Rick?" she retorted. "If you were writing about Derrick Storm it wouldn't be necessary. So buckle down. I'll have those letters waiting and I'll send them when I'm satisfied with what appears on my computer screen."

"Fine!" Castle ground out, getting up and turning to leave. A triumphant smile played over his lips as soon as he was out of Gina's visual range. Horrible as they were, these murders definitely had an upside. His writer's brain was going full bore and now he'd have another chance to observe his muse.

* * *

Hands sheathed in blue nitrile gloves, Castle sat across the conference table from Kate Beckett. He scanned the letters one by one for details that would give away a hint of a connection to the murders. "Could I get copies of the pictures of the murder scenes you showed me before?" he requested.

"Letters not salacious enough for you, Castle?" Beckett returned.

"No," Castled retorted, "I want to compare the details of the pictures to the letters. Maybe something will pop."

"I'll tell you what, Castle. I'll have them out on the table while we're working, but no way are you going to take them to show off to your buddies or some adoring fan with a sick interest in the macabre." She regarded Castle, who held her in his gaze. "You're staring. Do I have something in my teeth?"

Castle shook his head. "I'm just trying to figure out why you're acting so hostile, especially since you're one of those fans whom you seem to disdain so much. Usually biting is the first instinct of a wounded animal. Are you wounded, Detective?'

Kate rolled her eyes dismissively. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Castle."

Castle refused to pull his eyes away from her face. "Everyone has a story, Detective. Looking at you I see a woman who is beautiful and smart. Your accent is straight up Manhattan, which probably means your parents had enough money to live here. Which also means there were probably enough resources to send you to college, most likely a good one. Women like you don't usually end up as cops. There are safer and more lucrative professions. But something traumatic occurred to send you in this direction. I'm guessing that whatever it was didn't happen directly to you. You're not that wounded. It happened to someone you loved. Given your choice of department, I'm thinking that thing was a murder. But that murder was never solved. You never got the explanation that would bring closure to the rent in your soul. So here you are, Detective, picking at the scab. Am I close?"

Kate crossed her arms protectively across her chest. "Cute trick, Castle, but you're here to help solve a murder, not to play pop psychologist. I'll get the photos."

Beckett and Castle worked through most of the day, sifting through letters and emails. When Beckett was called away by Esposito, a member of her team, Castle managed to capture images of the photos Beckett had laid out, on his phone. He emailed them to himself so he could print them out at the loft. He knew it was underhanded, but he also thought it might help if he could study them. There was something niggling at his brain, but he wasn't sure quite what. As the time approached for Castle to leave to make sure that Ian would take time away from his school work and his new project to eat, he pulled a letter out of an envelope. The pages were was in cursive, each letter drawn rather than written. It was a pattern Castle recognized from some of the kids who'd been in remedial classes with Ian. The writer could certainly be capable of obsessive behavior. And like Ian, the author could draw. There was also a beautifully rendered image of a woman with sunflowers on her eyes and a body covered in rose petals. He held it up for Beckett to see. "I think we may have a hit."

Kate examined it and nodded. "I'll get an evidence bag. With any luck, we may be able to get some prints."

Castle took advantage of the time she was gone from the room to grab images of the letter.

* * *

Castle rotated his shoulders, trying to work out the kinks, as he bent over the photographs he had spread across the kitchen table. Gina had demanded a followup chapter to the one she'd coerced him into sending to obtain the fan files. He'd just finished a draft and put it aside for re-writing in the morning. Now he had a chance to examine the photos, trying to determine what his subconscious told him he was missing.

Ian came down the stairs in his usual sleeping apparel of a t-shirt and shorts. His feet were bare and spikes of his brown hair stood up in several places. He peered into the refrigerator. "I was hoping you'd be asleep," Castle told him. "Don't you have a test first period?"

"Yeah," Ian confirmed, "but that's probably the reason I can't. It's on _A Tale of Two Cities_. I listened to the audio book, so I should have the story down cold. But I also saw the movie, and I know Mr. Coulter. If there's a movie, he'll ask questions about the things that are different from the book, just to keep kids from taking short cuts. I'm just afraid I'll get confused."

"Well if I know you, you can play that movie from start to finish in your head, right?" Castle asked.

"Pretty much," Ian agreed, pouring a glass of chocolate milk.

"Then you'll just have to go with what's not on your inner reel," Castle suggested. "If what you see is different from what you heard, just go with the audio. Can you do that?"

"I guess so. So how come you can't sleep? Is it about those pictures?" Holding his drink, Ian walked over to look.

"You shouldn't be seeing these," Castle cautioned. "They're pretty gruesome."

Ian snorted. "Dad, please! I draw stuff more gruesome than this. They look kind of like your book covers except that the symbol on the guy's chest is wrong."

"I noticed that too," Castle agreed.

"And the rose petals are wrong too," Ian added.

Castle pursed his lips. "That I didn't see. How?"

"A couple of ways," Ian explained. "First they're the wrong shape. The ones on your book were narrower at one end. These aren't. But also, on your book she was completely covered from head to toe, like a blanket."

Castle nodded, "Right. I wrote it like she was being tucked in bed."

"See," Ian continued, pointing at a photo, "her toes are sticking out a little. You can see a bit of pink polish. It gives the picture a different feel, takes the coziness away. But..." Ian indicated Castle's capture of the drawing from the letter, "on this, the petals are right. Her feet are completely covered."

Castle clapped his son on the shoulder. "You're right. That's what's been bothering me about this. Maybe we both can get some sleep now."

Ian chugged most of the rest of his milk. "Sure Dad, I'll try."


	3. Chapter 3

Ian

Chapter 3

Kate looked up from her desk to see a hand extending a cup of coffee. "Castle, what are you doing here? There aren't any more letters to go through. An I.D. for a Kyle Cabot came back on the prints we pulled from the letter you found. We have him in custody. I've been checking his background and I'm just about to go question him now."

"Don't bother. You should let him go," Castle declared, handing her the cup. "We made a mistake. He didn't do it."

"Castle that's ridiculous!" Kate exclaimed, rising and turning to a white board displaying photos of Kyle's apartment. "Look, you should enjoy this. He has a total obsession with you. His place is practically a Richard Castle shrine."

"He still didn't do it," Castle insisted. "The killer made mistakes with both crime scenes, mistakes the writer of the letter would never have made. The writer got all of his details perfect."

Kate sighed and rolled her eyes, putting down her coffee. "Look, Castle, you can watch the interrogation from observation. You'll see. Kyle Cabot is our guy."

Kate led Castle to a one way mirror. The man on the other side rocked forward and back in his chair making unintelligible noises. "Have you got a diagnosis in your file, Detective Beckett?" Castle asked.

Kate flipped through the pages. "PDD-NOS."

"Um, a little outdated," Castle responded. "or most likely a fiscal diagnosis. That would put him somewhere on the autism spectrum, but it used to be the fashion to stick to PDD. That meant that fewer services were mandated, and the bureaucracy has a tendency to favor evaluations from professionals who err on the side of saving money."

Kate stared at him in surprise. "That's pretty cynical, Castle."

Castle's chest tightened as he remembered the confident pronouncements of the doctors who had attributed Kyra's back pain to pregnancy. By the time Ian was born and the pain showed no signs of abating, it was too late to stop the cancer that stole her life. "Let's just say I have my own reasons for not holding the medical establishment in high esteem. Just check to see if anyone might have requested a re-evaluation."

Kate flipped through the file some more. Furrows bracketed the bridge of her nose. "You're right Castle, she conceded. "The victim under the rose petals, Alison Tisdale, was his social worker. She made a note that she believed he'd been inadequately diagnosed. She also helped him get a job and some community supports. After she did that, she thought he was doing pretty well - at least until he killed her."

"Except that he didn't," Castle argued. "Look at him. Does he look like he could plan and execute two murders, even if he did use my books as a blueprint? Does that file give any history of violence?"

Kate gazed through the glass. "No, it doesn't. But there's always a first time, Castle, and looks can be deceiving. Murderers often present innocent veneers. You know that. You wrote about it in several of your books. In any case, I need to question him." Kate walked into Interrogation, leaving Castle at the mirror.

Kate slid into a chair across from the troubled suspect, "Kyle, my name is Kate," she told him gently. "I need to ask you some questions."

Kyle was silent, but pointed to her pen and then to her folder. Kate looked at him in confusion. Castle knocked on the glass, trying to get her attention. When she didn't respond, he pulled the door to the room open and strode in. "Detective, he wants you to write your questions. Obviously he's proficient with written language, but not with the spoken word."

"Castle, how would you know that?" Kate demanded.

"I've hung around special ed classes a lot as a volunteer. Trust me on this. I've seen your penmanship, Detective. It's lovely. Just write out your questions and let him write his answers - that is if you really want his answers."

Kate glared at Castle but opened her folder, revealing a legal pad. She carefully wrote: "What did you do on Tuesday?"

She pushed the pad and her pen across to Kyle, who wrote back: "I woke up at 6:30 A.M.. I took a shower at 6:35 A.M.. I got dressed at 6:55 A.M.. I microwaved oatmeal for 1 minute and 30 seconds at 7:00 A.M.. I ate oatmeal at 7:02 A.M.. I brushed my teeth at 7:15 A.M.. I read _Raging Storm_ at 7:17 A.M.. I left my apartment at 7:45 A.M.. I took the subway to work at Dewey's Diner at 8:00 A.M.. I worked until lunch at 12:06. P.M.. I ate tuna fish and chips. at 12:08 P.M.. I went back to work at 12:36 P.M.. I left Dewey's Diner at 4:36 P.M.. I took the subway to 42nd Street at 4:45 P.M.. I got off at 5:00 P.M.. I walked to Shultz's pet store. I got there at 5:05 P.M.. and watched the fish until 6:00 P.M.. I took the subway home at 6:08 P.M.. I got home at 6:32 P.M.. I put macaroni and cheese in the microwave for 4 minutes and 30 seconds at 6:34 P.M.. I ate it at 6:39 P.M.. I read _Raging Storm_ at 6:45 P.M.. I stopped reading _Raging Storm_ at 7:59 P.M.. I watched N.C.I.S. at 8:00 P.M.. I saw Abby push the wrong button on the mass spectrometer at 8:32 P.M.. That was bad. At 9:00 P.M. I read _Raging Storm_. At 10:06 P.M. I stopped reading _Raging Storm_. At 10:07 P. M. I brushed my teeth. At 10:10 P.M. I put on my pajamas. At 10:12 P.M. I went to bed."

Kyle pushed the pad and the pen back to Kate who slid it in front of Castle. "Is he putting me on?"

Castle regarded the neat handwriting. "He answered your question. It's up to you to check the accuracy of his response, Detective. He was certainly specific enough. I imagine not all your suspects are this accommodating. I can keep him company while you make your phone calls," Castle offered. "I'm sure that strapping young officer I saw outside the door will make sure Kyle doesn't go anywhere.

"Fine." Kate agreed grudgingly, pushing out of her chair and leaving the room.

Castle started a new page on the pad, and wrote a query to Kyle asking what he liked about _Raging_ _Storm_.

Kate dropped the receiver of her land line back in its cradle. Kyle had been watching the fish at Shultz's right in the middle of the kill zone. The clerk explained to Beckett that Kyle watched the fish every Tuesday and he would have noticed if Kyle wasn't there. Kyle's time at the diner also checked out and a neighbor had seen him come home. There was no way he could have killed Allison Tisdale.

Kate returned to Interrogation, where Kyle and Castle were cheerfully writing notes back and forth. Kate took the pad and wrote. "You can go now, Kyle. I'll have an officer take you home."

"I could take him." Castle offered.

Kate shook her head. "It's better if we have an official record that he arrived safely. And you should go home now too, Castle."

"Detective, this case still isn't over," Castle protested. "In fact, you're pretty much back to square one. And I'm more invested in finding the real murderer than anyone. I still want to help."

Kate could feel her skin warming at the thought of Castle staying around the precinct, but his presence could only complicate her life. She seized on the first excuse she could think of to put him off. "I need to ask my captain."

"Fine," Castle agreed. "I'll wait."

As soon as Beckett disappeared behind a closed office door, Castle pulled out his phone and thumbed the icon for the mayor's private line.


	4. Chapter 4

Ian

Chapter 4

Mayor Bob Weldon had spent long hours at the poker table with Richard Castle and even longer hours working with him on the mayor's reading train charity. Castle had been tireless in raising funds for promoting awareness of reading disabilities and methods for addressing them. When Castle called and asked for an intervention with the N.Y.P.D., Weldon was more than happy to grant it, and happily revealed that he and Captain Roy Montgomery were old friends, and occasional poker buddies, as well.

Kate returned to Castle, her eyes flashing and her jaw set. "It would seem that you have no problems availing yourself of the bureaucracy when it serves your purpose, Mr. Castle. I've been informed that I'm to allow you to shadow me as long as you like, so you can research your new book. I thought this was about catching a murderer."

"It was. It is." Castle protested. "It's just that somewhere in the process you became my inspiration. You, or at least a version of you, are my new heroine, Detective Beckett. I would think you'd be pleased, or at least flattered."

"Pleased that I've got to drag an amateur around when I'm trying to get real police work done? Hardly, Castle. You could stumble into a situation and get yourself or someone else killed. That's not my description of an ideal scenario. But you're sort of like the reams of paperwork the department forces on me. They weigh me down, but I have no choice."

"Ouch!" Castle exclaimed.

"And one more thing," Kate added. "While I was in Captain Montgomery's office, a call came in. There's another body. So I guess you'll get to see your first murder scene. That should appeal to your morbid curiosity."

"Ooh, ouch again, Detective," Castle responded. "I'll lick my wounds while you lead the way."

* * *

Medical Examiner Lanie Parrish knelt by a body that had been pulled from a swimming pool. Castle surveyed the scene. "Death of a Prom Queen," he noted to Kate. "I guess whoever is trying to frame Kyle Cabot had no idea we would clear him."

Kate took an involuntary step backwards. "Whoa, Castle! Frame Kyle Cabot? Where are you getting that from?"

"Easy," Castle replied. "This body and the one from _Hell Hath No Fury_ are red herrings, a standard literary device. This is all about Alison Tisdale. Someone knew about her close association with Kyle Cabot and tried to throw us off the trail. So the killer tried to make it look like Kyle did it. But since Kyle didn't, we need to look for someone with a motive to kill Alison Tisdale. And by the way, the killer screwed up again. This victim's dress is the wrong color and it's the wrong kind of knife. Our killer may be sneaky but he's also sloppy."

"Okay, Castle, going on the wild assumption that you're right, why is the killer a he?"

Castle walked over to the body and Lanie got up to greet him. "Richard Castle? I'm Lanie Parrish. I've seen your books all over Kate's apartment. She's even lent me a couple of them. You have a real feel for the details of murder."

Castle bowed slightly at the waist. "Thank you Dr. Parrish. Would you be so kind as to tell us where the knife penetrated the body?"

"It went right into the sternum," Lanie explained. It cracked it, sending shards into the lungs and the liver. I won't know until I open her up, but I suspect that hemorrhaging from the liver is what killed her."

"And how much strength would it take to put a knife into someone's sternum?" Castle asked.

"A lot," Lanie replied. "It was probably one strong dude."

Castle turned to Kate. "And that, Detective Beckett, is why I suspect it was a man. There are women who could do it, maybe even yourself, but the statistics are against it."

Lanie smiled in admiration. "Very good, Mr. Castle."

Kate snorted and turned away, feigning disgust.

Castle went after her. "So when do we start talking to Alison Tisdale's family? I did a quick Google on the way over. Her father is a real estate developer. He's loaded."

"Takes one to know one doesn't it Castle?" Kate jibed. "I mean, you are a millionaire best selling author."

Castle shook his head and rolled his own eyes. "Believe me Kate, next to Tisdale, my bank account is small change."

* * *

Jonathan Tisdale was ensconced on the top floor of the Tisdale Building. Kate regarded his office. It was bigger than her apartment. Castle seemed to wander around it aimlessly, examining the pictures on the walls.

The signs of grief were obvious on Jonathan Tisdale's face, but he was gracious in his response to Kate's questions. "Mr. Tisdale, can you think of anyone who'd want to harm your daughter?"

"No one," Tisdale responded emphatically, unconsciously stroking his head of white hair. "Everyone loved her."

Castle spoke from the middle of the room where he had been examining the displays. "Mr. Tisdale, Forbes puts your worth at about a hundred million dollars. Is that accurate?"

"I don't keep track day to day," Tisdale answered.

"But it's in the ballpark," Castle persisted.

"I've been lucky," Tisdale admitted.

"Would there have been anyone interested in your daughter's money?" Kate asked.

"She didn't have any," Tisdale replied. She was never interested in money. What little she had, she gave to charity."

Kate nodded. "Well thank you, Mr. Tisdale. I appreciate your time."

Kate started for the door but Castle lagged behind. "Mr. Tisdale, one more thing. If something were to happen to you, who gets your fortune?"

Tisdale swallowed and stroked his hair again."Half of it would go to my charitable foundation and the other half to my children - my son Harrison."

"Thank you," Castle said as he went to follow Kate out.

Kate turned to Castle as they exited the building. "Honestly Castle, could you be more boorish? That man is grieving for his daughter and you're asking him about who inherits his money. What the hell was that about?"

"He's dying," Castle stated simply. "He's thinner than he was in the pictures in his office, and not workout thin, sick thin. The way he was touching his hair, that's a piece. It's a good one, but it's new to him. And he was wearing makeup. He wants to appear healthier than he is."

"So he's on chemo, Castle and he's putting on a good front for his stockholders. That doesn't mean he's dying," Kate asserted. "Lots of people recover from cancer these days."

Castle drew a sharp breath as a stab of grief tore at his insides, but he forced his face into a smile. "But the story makes more sense if he is. Harrison Tisdale could know about Alison's clients, like Kyle. And now he'll inherit all of Jonathan Tisdale's money. That should be motive enough to merit paying Harrison a visit, wouldn't you say, Detective?"

"You've got a point, Castle," Kate agreed grudgingly."Let's go."

* * *

Harrison's office wasn't nearly as grand as his father's, but Castle observed that it still had all the comforts, including a fully stocked bar, which Harrison appeared to have generously availed himself of before Kate and Castle arrived. Castle studied the man carefully. His hands were uncalloused. It was clear that others did the real work in the construction company the younger Tisdale ran. But Harrison's biceps were well developed, most likely as a result of the efforts of a personal trainer. He would be fully capable of plunging a knife into a sternum.

Kate began by offering sympathy for Harrison's loss, then explained that even though the N.Y.P.D. had a suspect, just for the record, she had to account for his whereabouts during his sister's time of death.

Harrison responded that he understood, and explained that he'd been out of the country for all three killings. He showed her the stamps on his passport. Kate thanked him and left.

"I was so sure!" Castle exclaimed, as they walked toward Kate's vehicle. "But it sounds like he's got ironclad alibis."

"Well obviously you're not a cop Castle!" Kate returned.

Puzzlement spread over Castle's rugged features. "Why?"

Kate poked him in the chest. "He was lying, Castle. I can understand him having an alibi for his sister's murder, but the other two? He shouldn't even have known about the third one. It hasn't been released to the press."

"If you knew he was lying, why didn't you press him harder?" Castle demanded.

Kate sighed. "Because we don't want to tip him off until we have enough to nail him. He could destroy evidence or run, We need to let him think he fooled us. Well he did fool you. Now we have to prove he was actually in the country."

"Sounds like that's going to take some doing," Castle observed.

"Castle," Kate threw back, that's why we call it police **work**."


	5. Chapter 5

Ian

Chapter 5

"We got Harrison Tisdale's financials," Esposito's partner Ryan reported. "His business is teetering on the brink of bankruptcy. If he doesn't get a massive infusion of cash soon, he'll lose everything."

"That fits with our theory of the crime," Beckett mused, writing a summary of what Ryan said on the whiteboard near her desk.

"Yo!" Esposito called from across the detective bullpen. "Bad news. Immigration and Customs confirm the dates of Harrison Tisdale's travel out of the country. So do the airlines."

Kate's brow furrowed as she bit her lower lip."Then we'll have to figure out how he faked it somehow."

"He wouldn't have had to fake it, "Castle suggested. "With his money, he could have obtained a second passport on the black market. I investigated doing that for my Derrick Storm books. With the counterfeit passport, he could have flown back into the country and out again under another name and no one would have been the wiser. If you want to nail him, you need to find that other passport."

"Castle, we'd need a warrant to search his home and office for that, and with the evidence against him this thin, I don't know a judge who'll sign one."

"I do," Castle asserted.

* * *

Castle strolled with Judge Markway though the halls of the courthouse while Kate trailed behind. "I hear they're redoing the whole back nine," Castle said. "It should be great, but I haven't been out there for a while. I've been taking Ian with me to play, so it's better to use a course closer to home. That way he doesn't lose time with his schoolwork."

"So he's enjoying learning golf?" Markway asked. "Doesn't seem like it would be his style."

"It isn't. He enjoys employing large expanses of grass to picture superhero battles," Castle confided. "He's also making a study of how to draw greenery. But it gives us time together in the great outdoors. Speaking of time, Detective Beckett doesn't have much of it. Harrison Tisdale could decide to take off any minute."

Markway turned back to Kate. "You're sure about this, Detective? The Tisdales have a lot of power in this city. The senior Tisdale's company is putting up the new building for my bank."

"As sure as I can be, Your Honor," Kate assured him."

"Harrison Tisdale's our murderer, Marky," Castle insisted. "Trust me on this."

Markway shrugged. "Alright Rick. Detective Beckett, you better make this one stick."

Castle turned around to offer his back for Markway to use to sign the paperwork.

* * *

Seconds behind Ryan and Esposito, Kate pulled up in front of the building housing Harrison Tisdale's office. She turned to Rick, who was in the passenger seat. "Castle, you need to stay in the car. If he resists, this could get dangerous. Captain Montgomery said a lawyer is putting together some releases for you to sign, so you can't sue the city if you get hurt, but if something happens to you before that, my ass is on the line. So please stay in the car. I promise you I'll show you everything we find."

"Okay," Castle agreed reluctantly. "I wouldn't want any harm to befall such a magnificent posterior."

* * *

Harrison Tisdale's assistant knocked on his door. "Harry, a bunch of police cars pulled up outside the building and security called from downstairs. They just let up three detectives. The cops should be here any second."

Harrison Tisdale took a quick glance out the window at the collection of flashing lights. "Stall them, Maureen, I've got something to do."

"Okay Harry," the buxom brunette agreed. "I'll do my best."

Harrison Tisdale squatted on his haunches in front of a safe hidden behind his office bar. His fingers fumbled with the combination, but he was finally able to yank open the door and pull out a phony passport and a gun. He stuffed the passport in a document shredder before taking a private elevator that delivered him to a back corner of the lobby of the building. He ducked into an attached coffee shop, left by their main exit to the sidewalk, and began to run.

Killing time people watching, Castle spotted the hurriedly departing figure and recognized Harrison. Castle hastily hit the contact for Kate on his cell phone, succinctly yelling, "He's here!" It was obvious to Castle that before Kate could arrive or Castle could manage to get the attention of any of the other cops on site, Harrison would be gone. Shoving the car door open, Castle took off after the fleeing suspect.

Hearing pursuing footsteps behind him, Harrison Tisdale ducked into an alley, hiding behind a dumpster. When Castle followed him, Tisdale grabbed the writer, aiming a gun at his head.

Rushing from Tisdale's building, Kate looked frantically down the sidewalk. She turned into the alley to see Tisdale, holding Castle as a shield. "Back off, Detective," Tisdale warned.

"Are you all right, Castle?" Kate called.

"Fine," Castle answered, "except that psycho here should switch to vodka or invest in breath mints. Easier to knock off your own sister if you're loaded Tisdale? Wouldn't it just have been easier to ask your father for the money?" Castle felt Harrison flinch. "Oh that's it, isn't it? You did ask him for the money, didn't you? And he turned you down flat."

"Castle!" Kate exclaimed, the breath catching raggedly in her throat.

Castle held up a hand, silently urging her to hold off trying anything.

"Fucking bleeding heart! Just like Alison." Harrison spat out. "My father wouldn't think twice about giving millions to support some homeless bums or useless cripples. Everything was always Alison, but never me. I spent years building my company, but he told me I made a mess of my business and I was going to have to clean it up. He said it would be a learning experience, that I'd be better for it. He wouldn't loan me a dime."

"So that's the story. It wasn't just the money. You were going to lose what you cared about, so before your father died, you wanted him to lose what he cared about too. And you knew Alison cared about Kyle Cabot, so you set him up to take the fall. You'd get revenge on both of them. It would have been a great plan if you hadn't screwed up the murders the way you screwed up your company."

As Harrison stiffened in fury, Castle jammed an elbow into the killer's nose, knocking him to the concrete. Castle fell with him, but Harrison's gun skittered across the concrete. Kate dived to retrieve it, then rushed to cuff Harrison while he was still stunned. "Castle," she demanded, "why did you bait him like that? You could have been killed!"

"I was fine, Detective Beckett," Castle declared, rubbing a sore spot on his hip that had hit the dumpster on the way down. He screwed up holding me at gunpoint like he screwed up everything else. Look at the gun. The safety was on the whole time."

Kate punched Castle's arm in frustration. "Well you could have told me."

"But if I did, I wouldn't have gotten the story - and you wouldn't have gotten his confession."

Kate looked up at Ryan and Esposito who had reached the alley with a couple of uniformed officers behind them. She pointed to Harrison. "Read this piece of garbage his rights and take him in."

Esposito pulled Harrison to his feet and the uniformed officers guided the suspect to a squad car. Kate and Castle were left alone in the alley. "Well Detective," Castle declared, getting to his feet, you get to close three murders. So what does the intrepid crime solver do to celebrate?"

"Castle before I get to celebrate anything, I have a report to write. Unless you want to lend your wordsmithing expertise, such as it is, you're done with this case."

Castle consulted his watch. "Fun as that sounds, I'm afraid I'll have to pass. My son has a couple of friends coming over after school for a light saber battle and if I'm not there to supervise, my loft could end up looking like the Valley of Serenity after the Alliance attacked."

"No rebel angels coming in to save you, huh Castle?"

Castle grinned, delighted that she understood his reference. "Exactly. So, see you for the next case, Detective Beckett?"

"It's not like I have a choice, Castle, but yes, see you for the next case.


	6. Chapter 6

Ian

Chapter 6

Castle flexed his fingers. Signing the raft of papers the city had provided wasn't nearly as bad as hours of signing books, but the droning on of the city's lawyer about his heirs filing suits was tedious and useless. It wasn't as if he'd put Ian through suing New York. His son had a very healthy trust fund and Castle's shadowing of Kate Beckett for material to produce a new series of books would make it even healthier. But Castle had no intention of getting himself killed. Ian needed him, and he wanted to live to see his son become the best graphic artist on the planet. He'd be careful, as careful as he could be.

Kate Beckett had been observing the process. Castle couldn't be sure if she was enjoying his misery or just making sure she'd be off the hook with Roy Montgomery about keeping Castle safe. Kate's cell rang. "We've got a murder," she announced.

"Great!" Castle exclaimed, pushing away a pile of documents.

"Stay, Castle," Kate commanded. "This time you have to do the paperwork." She took off before he could protest further.

* * *

Esposito, Ryan, and Kate were in the basement laundry room of an apartment building when Castle finally arrived. Kate was peering into a dryer at the body of a young woman. "Someone should have told her you're supposed to take the clothes off before you dry them," Castle quipped, as verbal cover for the the knot forming in his stomach. "Who's the victim?"

"The nanny," Esposito answered. "Sarah Manning."

"God!" Castle exclaimed. "Was there a child involved? Did they see the murder? Are they all right?"

"Relax Castle," Ryan counseled. "The kid was at school when it happened. He didn't see a thing."

Kate turned around to look at Castle. "Unfortunately, as far as we know, neither did anyone else. I'm going up to interview the kid's parents now, if you want to tag along."

* * *

The Petersons sat on the couch in their apartment while Kate questioned them. With their son Justin in the next room, they spoke quietly. Rick noted that they weren't sitting hip to hip or holding hands. He found that unsettling. If someone that close to Ian had been murdered, Castle would want want someone to hold onto. There was something not right between those two. Kate was obviously more interested in whatever troubles Sarah Manning might have been having, than the relationship between Sarah's employers. "Mr. and Mrs. Peterson, was there anyone you know of who might have wanted to hurt Sarah?"

"I don't know. We didn't know that much about her private life," Claudia Peterson said.

"Do you know who her next of kin is?" Kate inquired.

"Her parents are in Georgia," Howard Peterson replied.

"I'm sorry we don't have contact information for them," Claudia added. "But you should talk to Chloe Richards. She works for the Harrises in 13B, she and Sarah were friends." Claudia pointed to a backpack sitting on a chair. "That's Sarah's. There might be something in there too. Her numbers should be on her cell phone."

Kate rose, preparing to leave. "Just one thing," Castle interjected, "did Sarah have a boyfriend?"

"Castle!" Kate hissed in annoyance at his interference.

"Hey," Castle pointed out, "statistically it's usually someone close to the victim."

"Sarah did have a boyfriend," Howard Peterson answered, "but I believe they broke up about a month ago. I heard her talking to him on the phone occasionally. I think his name was Brent. His number should be on her phone too."

Kate thanked the Petersons again before grabbing the backpack and heading for the door. "You didn't ask many questions," Castle noted as Kate went through Sarah's backpack while they waited for the elevator."

"Yeah well I like to do some investigating first before I do that," Kate informed him brusquely. "It gives me a much better handle on how straight people are being with their answers."

"Okay," Castle acknowledged, "I can understand that. But while we were there, did you happen to notice that the Petersons are not the most loving of couples? And Howard Peterson knew more about Sarah than Claudia did, at least in the boyfriend department. Isn't that a little unusual? You think Howard and Sarah were having an affair?"

"Castle I would think you could be more creative than than that. Isn't sleeping with the nanny a bit of a cliché?" Kate dug to the bottom of the bag, air whooshing between her lips in frustration.

"Things become clichés because they happen," Castle argued. "I'm just sayin'. Hey, what's wrong with that backpack?"

"There's no phone in here. I hope CSU found it." The elevator doors opened and they stepped in. "There is a wallet," Kate continued, examining the I.D. inside. "Sarah still had a Georgia drivers license. I should be able to contact her parents using the information on it."

"You're the one who has to make that phone call? That must be tough."

"Castle, I'm the lead detective on the case. It's my job. It can't be all fun and games."

Castle gazed down at her. He wished he could offer some form of physical comfort, at least a touch on the arm. But he was pretty sure his hand would be slapped away. "Kate, I never thought it was."

Kate secured the backpack with CSU and she and Castle returned upstairs to find the Harrises. There was no answer at the apartment, but the doorman, a fervent fan of Derrick Storm books, informed them that Chloe Richards could be found with Becca Harris, in the park a couple of blocks away.

* * *

Chloe was hesitant to talk while she was tasked with watching Becca, but one of the other nannies agreed to keep an eye on the girl, so Chloe sat on a bench between Castle and Beckett. "Yeah, I know about Brent," she confided. "His name is Brent Johnson. What you heard was right, they did break up about a month ago. Sarah said there was someone else. She wouldn't tell me who, but I think I know. The Petersons were supposed to alternate nights fixing dinner for Justin so Sarah could go home. But lately Sarah had been staying late. And the nights she stayed late were the nights Mr. Peterson was there."

Castle raised an eyebrow at Kate.

Kate looked back at Chloe. "So you think Sarah was having an affair with Howard Peterson?"

Chloe nodded silently.

* * *

Rick toyed restlessly with the fringes on his scarf while Kate drove back to the precinct. "What's the matter, Castle? I would think you'd be gloating over being right about Howard Peterson."

" I think he's reprehensible," Castle declared. "It would be bad enough if Peterson was just cheating on his wife, but the way Chloe described it, he would have been doing it, with Justin in the apartment. Justin would have known. That's a terrible thing to do to a kid!"

"You've been divorced twice, haven't you Castle? Writer about town, I would think you'd have a bit more sympathy with a cheating husband," Kate responded.

Castle turned to Kate, his eyes blazing. "First of all, I never cheated on either of my wives, although I'll admit I was tempted to when I was married to Gina, my publisher. But I would never have entertained the notion of doing it under Ian's nose. And second of all, I've only been divorced once. Ian's mother died when he was less than a year old. For most of his life it's been the two of us against the world. I'd never do anything to hurt him."

Kate swallowed. "I'm sorry Castle. I had no idea."

Castle sighed. "Yeah, well now you do. You know what, Detective Beckett, you can just pull over and let me out at the subway. I feel a need to go home right now."

Kate mentally kicked herself. She should have figured out that Castle's perceptiveness about her loss was because he'd suffered one of his own. Silently she found a parking spot at the curb

A/N For the guest who keeps complaining that the story is rated M, but isn't, stories are rated, chapters are not. I have intentions for this story and I don't want someone to run into something inappropriate. The rating also applies to language and I did use some in Chapter 5 which would normally be bleeped. Also, Castle's back story might be a bit heavy for kids.


	7. Chapter 7

Ian

Chapter 7

Castle balanced the warm pizza box on his large hand while he unlocked the door to the loft. He immediately heard the clomping of his son's footsteps descending the stairs. Ian had yet to hit his growth spurt, but his feet were already larger than Castle's and grace was not his best attribute. "Dad, I'm glad you're here!" Ian exclaimed before he was halfway down. "I figured out how to make Dweeby overcome a supervillain who blocks Dweeby's word barrage. You gotta see. Ooh, you brought pizza!"

"Double meat," Castle confirmed. "I felt the need for fortification."

Reaching Castle, Ian scanned his father's face. "Something wrong? Is your new character not working out?"

"I'll make her work out," Castle assured him. "That's the advantage of writing fiction. I can make things go any way I want to. No, it's just the case I'm working on with Beckett. I think something pretty ugly was happening."

"Uglier than murder?" Ian questioned.

"I don't know," Castle admitted. "But it's nothing you should have worry about. Pizza before, or after, you show me what you've invented for Dweeby?"

"Dweeby can wait," Ian decided.

Ian had just grabbed a last scrap of pepperoni that was stuck inside the lid of the empty box when the doorbell buzzed. "Are you expecting someone?" Castle asked. Chewing, Ian shook his head.

When Castle opened the door, he regarded his visitor with surprise, but motioned her in. "Detective Beckett, what brings you to my humble abode?"

Kate gazed around what was for New York City, a huge space. "Not so humble, Castle. You must have needed a lot of adventures from Derrick Storm to pay for this place."

"Not as many as you think. I bought this when it was still cheap and industrial and converted it," Castle explained. "Back then, Storm was barely a gentle shower in my brain. I think I had just sold my third mystery novel. As I recall, the royalties just about covered the cost of the renovations. But I doubt that you're here to discuss the price of real estate, Detective."

Ian cleared his throat. "I'll be upstairs, Dad. We can talk about Dweeby later."

Castle put up a hand. "No wait! Detective Beckett, this is my son Ian, by far the more talented Castle."

Ian extended a hand. "Nice to meet my father's new inspiration."

Kate pushed her hair behind her ear, trying to figure out what to say before completing the handshake. "Nice to meet you too, Ian. Your father is certainly making my life - interesting."

"He's good at that," Ian replied. "That's a lot of the fun around here." Ian turned to his father. "Dad, you and Detective Beckett do your thing. I have homework."

Kate watched the boy climb the stairs to the upper level before turning back to Castle. "He seems like a good kid."

"The best," Castle agreed, "but can you to tell me why you're here now?"

Kate nervously twisted a large watch on her wrist. "Actually I came to apologize. What I said to you was uncalled for. And even if you're not a cop, you have been helpful - at times. And you're going to be around whether I like it or not. So, peace?"

"Kind of a backhanded apology isn't it Detective? But fine." Castle gestured at the empty pizza box. "I'd offer to seal the deal with a slice, but Ian would inhale the cardboard if he could. Can I offer you a coffee, or something stronger?"

"A coffee would be great, Castle, thanks." Fingers curled around the warmth of a ceramic cup, Kate inhaled the steam rising from Castle's aromatic brew. "This is wonderful, Castle, especially after what we drink at the precinct."

"I know, right?" Castle agreed. "The coffee there is kind of fascinating. It tastes like a monkey peed in battery acid. Isn't that considered some kind of workplace abuse?"

Kate laughed. "I don't think the N.Y.P.D. sees it that way. Anyhow, I also wanted to tell you that we tracked down Brent Johnson's and Sarah Manning's phone records. The latter are pretty interesting. We'll be bringing Brent in for questioning tomorrow morning, if you want to sit in."

Castle clinked his cup against hers. "Detective, it's a date."

* * *

"Mr. Johnson," Kate began, "Do you understand why you're here?"

Brent wiped his palms against his pants. "The cops who brought me in just said you had some questions for me."

"Do you know Sarah Manning?" Kate asked.

"Yeah," Brent admitted. "We dated until about a month ago. Why? Is Sarah in some kind of trouble?"

Kate ignored Brent's question. "Who broke up with whom?" she continued.

"It was kind of a mutual thing," Brent replied.

"Really?" Kate retorted, pushing the button on a digital recorder.

Brent's angry voice emanated from the tiny speaker. "Sarah, I know you're there, pick up! Sarah, you bitch, you can't just keep ignoring me! Sarah, just tell me who he is!"

Kate turned it off. "Doesn't sound mutual to me," Castle commented.

Brett shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Where did you get that? Why would Sarah give you that?"

"It would have been hard for her to give us anything, Brent, considering she's dead," Kate returned. "Your messages came from her voicemail provider and there are a lot more."

The color drained from Brent's face "Dead? How?"

"Good performance Brent," Castle observed, "Lot's of angst. But I suspect you know how. Your girlfriend threw you over, so you gave her a fatal tumble."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Brent insisted. "I haven't seen Sarah since she dumped me."

So where were you yesterday afternoon?" Kate demanded.

"Working," Brent replied. "Just like I was when your cops picked me up this morning. You can check my time card."

"Did you take lunch?" Kate pressed, "say about one o'clock?"

"My shift starts early, so my lunch is at eleven, but I didn't go anywhere," Brent claimed. "I was in the company cafeteria. You can check that too. There were three other guys eating with me, including my supervisor, Mr. Maltby. Call him."

"Oh I will," Kate assured him.

* * *

In the break room, sipping from an N.Y.P.D. mug, Castle winced at the taste of the coffee. It was even worse than he remembered. "I've got to do something about this swill now," he muttered, pouring the murky liquid down the sink. Taking a seat on a stool at one of the high tables, he pulled out his phone.

Kate joined him just as he finished placing an order. "Castle, Brent Johnson's alibi checks out. He couldn't have killed Sarah."

"Well that would leave us with her other lover, wouldn't it?" Castle offered. "Maybe Peterson isn't just a cheating scum. Maybe he's a murderer too." Castle narrated the scene playing in his mind's eye. "Howard Peterson just wants to have some fun with the pretty nanny, but young and naive, she falls in love with him. She presses Howard to divorce his wife and marry her, but he wants no part of that. He may no longer love his wife, but he loves their apartment and their lifestyle, which he fears he'd lose in a divorce. He knows Sarah's schedule. He knows she'll be alone in the laundry room while his son is in school. Perhaps he didn't even intend to kill her. Maybe he offered to buy her off, give her a new start. They argue. She rushes at him, and things get fatally out of hand. Fearful of being discovered, he quickly pushes her into the empty dryer, and sets it to a long cycle, giving him time to get away and leaving her for the next unlucky launderer to discover."

"Well that's a great story, Castle," Kate acknowledged. "But that's all it is. At this moment, we still have no proof that Peterson and Sarah Manning were even having an affair. Let's go talk to Mr. Peterson and find out."

Kate slid off her stool and Castle followed her out of the room.


	8. Chapter 8

Ian

Chapter 8

Kate and Castle found Howard Peterson standing in the middle of an empty office space, yelling into his phone that his client needed more square footage. Looking up at Kate, he ended the call. "Detective Beckett, what can I do for the N.Y.P.D.? I've told you everything I know about Sarah."

"There are still some things we need to understand, Mr. Peterson," Kate informed him.

"Can you walk with me?" Peterson asked? "I have to get out of here." The duo accompanied him to the elevator and out to the sidewalk.

"Mr Peterson," Kate began as they were moving along the pavement, "we were given to understand that you and your wife alternate evenings coming home to make dinner and be with your son. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Howard confirmed, "what does that have to do with Sarah?"

"Everything, if she was the one you were actually coming home to," Castle inserted. "On the nights you were scheduled to be with Justin, Sarah stayed at the apartment. Why would she need to be there, except for a few extracurricular activities?"

"That's nuts!" Peterson protested. "Where are you getting this?"

"You were seen, Mr. Peterson," Kate stated flatly.

"Well, whoever said that was wrong!" Peterson claimed.

"Was the security camera in the elevator wrong too?" Castle demanded.

Peterson's shoulders slumped. "All right, Sarah and I were having an affair."

Castle flushed, the rugged lines on his face deepening. "With your son in the apartment, nice!"

"I always set him up with a movie or a video game. He didn't know what was going on." Peterson insisted.

"If you believe that, you're a fool and a murderer." Castle accused.

"I didn't kill Sarah! " Peterson exclaimed. "And I can prove it. I was in a meeting at my office that afternoon. In fact I had to leave it when my son's school called to tell me that Justin hadn't been picked up. I went to get him, and when we got home, the cops were just arriving. Should be easy enough to check, right? You already have the video from the building."

"We will, Mr. Peterson," Kate assured him, "but you can wait at the precinct while we do." Kate guided him to her unit and Castle followed.

At the Twelfth, Castle looked over Kate's shoulder while she checked the video from the Peterson's building, but he knew what they were going to see. Kate had already confirmed the meeting Howard Peterson claimed as his alibi. Peterson came into view . The camera showed him striding through the main entrance of his building, with Justin trailing behind him. Castle sank into the chair next to Kate's desk, rubbing his temples.

Kate sighed. "I'm sorry Castle, I thought we had our guy too. We'll just have to re-examine the evidence and see what else we have. But I have to go tell Peterson he can leave."

"I need to go too," Castle told her. "I have some things to take care of."

Castle made his way to the elevator, scintillating shapes flashing before his eyes. They would be beautiful if he didn't know what was coming next. It had been a long time since he'd had a migraine aura, close to a year. He'd hoped he was done with them. Apparently he had no such luck. He was glad he'd come to the precinct in a cab. Shortly, he'd be robbed of most of his central vision. The light show would only last for about twenty minutes and it would probably be at least an hour before the headache arrived, but there was no way he could get behind the wheel of a car. He could make out a large yellow shape approaching and hailed it.

* * *

Ian came into the loft to find the lights out, but his father's jacket and scarf were in the closet. He walked as quietly as he could through Castle's office and peered through the door of the bedroom. The drapes were drawn and his father was stretched out on the bed. Ian had seen that scenario before. "Are you okay, Dad? Migraines back?"

Castle pushed himself up on his elbows. "Hey, I'll be fine. I took one of the doctor's magic shots and I'm already feeling better. Just grab a snack and start your homework. This should be over by dinnertime."

"Okay, call me if you need anything," Ian urged.

"Sure," Castle agreed, "but don't worry."

Castle watched his son's attempt at a silent retreat. Damn! Ian had known about Castle's headaches for years and always acted like he took them in stride. But Castle knew his son worried about him and he hated to put him through that. Fucking Peterson! He shouldn't have let the cheating asshole get to him. If he was going keep following Kate, he needed to toughen up. He considered the detective's prickly exterior. She certainly didn't seem to be disturbed by anything except the setback in the case. But then again, he was putting on a front for her. She might be doing the same. Someone completely imperturbable wouldn't be wearing a man's watch that dwarfed her wrist. Castle wondered if it had to do with whatever loss set her on the path to her career in law enforcement. There was a story there and if he was going to flesh out Nikki Heat, as he'd decided to name his new character, it would help to know it. He was curious anyway. One way or another, he'd get it out of Kate. He'd just have to find the right moment. He sat up tentatively, wary of the waves of nausea that had overcome him the last time he'd tried it. If there was anything left in his body, it seemed content to stay where it was. He really was improving. Of course having Ian around usually did make him feel better under any circumstances. With any luck, he'd be able to make something decent for dinner. He might even be able to eat it.

"Did you and Detective Beckett find the killer, Dad?" Ian asked, spooning out a second helping of Castle's special macaroni and cheese.

Castle pushed the saucy elbows around on his plate. "Not yet. We did discover a truly reprehensible human being, but he isn't a murderer. Detective Beckett and her team will keep working on it, but I have a feeling we're missing something. I just can't get a handle on it."

"Maybe you'll dream about it," Ian offered. "That happens to me when I'm trying to work out a new costume or something for a character."

"It happens to me too when I'm working on a new plot line," Castle confided. "But then I have to get up and write it down right away or I'll forget it. I end up watching way too many late night infomercials that way. The shower's better for me. I get lots of ideas in there. And they usually stay around longer. Hmm, I'll have to find out where Detective Beckett does her best thinking and see if it will fit Nikki."

"You like Detective Beckett, Dad?" Ian asked.

"I like her as a muse," Castle replied.

Ian put down his fork and stared at his father. "Come on, Dad. I notice things so I can draw them. You know: how close people are standing, how they stand, when they touch their hair. I think you like her and I think she likes you. And you're both trying to act like you don't."

"You met her for two minutes!" Castle exclaimed. "How did you reach that conclusion?"

"Dad," Ian explained slowly, sounding much like one of his special education teachers, "When you opened the door she was smoothing her hair and licking her lips, but then she crossed her arms. You started to smile and pushed your chest out when you saw her, but then you stopped smiling and your shoulders got all stiff. And you two were standing closer to each other than people usually do. That usually means that people either like each other or are trying to intimidate each other."

"In Detective Beckett's case, intimidation seems more likely," Castle opined. "I don't know. After the disaster with Gina, I haven't really thought seriously about a woman. I'm not sure I'm ready to. Right now I think I'd rather worry about Nikki Heat than Kate Beckett. Relationships on the page are a lot easier to handle."

Lifting his fork again, Ian nodded his understanding.


	9. Chapter 9

Ian

Chapter 9

With the last dregs of his migraine still tightening his skull around his brain, Castle decided to turn in early. He had hoped for a peaceful, even restorative, night, but the case pushed its way into his dreamscape. Howard Peterson was on his phone at a conference table crowded with men in matching black suits. "I don't know where his nanny is. You're supposed to call his mother," he complained to the caller. "I'm right in the middle of something. What do you mean they can't find her? Alright, I'm coming." Howard stuffed the phone back in his jacket pocket. "Bitches, they're all bitches."

Castle sat up in bed. "Schools usually do call the mother," he thought. He could remember when new staff members or volunteers at Ian's schools had called his phone expecting to find Mrs. Castle. So where was Claudia Peterson? He checked the backlit dial on his watch. Four A.M., too early to call Beckett. He scribbled his question about Claudia on the pad he kept on his nightstand, wadded up his pillow, and tried to go back to sleep. After lying awake for half an hour, he resigned himself to accepting that sleep was over for the night. Regretfully leaving the comforting cocoon of his bed, he turned on the T.V. in his office. Johnny Vong's familiar face filled the screen, promising untold riches for the bargain price of four hundred dollars.

* * *

"Where was Claudia?" Castle inquired, approaching Kate's desk and extending a newly purchased latte.

Kate took the cardboard cup and set it on her desk, gazing at Castle in confusion. "What?"

"Claudia Peterson. Justin's school called Howard. Sexist as it may be, schools usually call the mother first. Where was she?"

"That's a good question Castle," Kate replied. "If she knew her husband was having an affair with Sarah, it certainly could have been a motive for killing her. But we didn't see her on the elevator video or the video for the front door."

"That's suspicious in itself, isn't it?" Castle asked. "We know she came back to the apartment. We interviewed her there. How and when did she get there? Picture this. Claudia keeps a pair of running shoes in her tote, not just for running, but so that she can navigate New York sidewalks in comfort." Castle looked down at Kate's spike heels. "You might try that sometime, Detective. It might make it easier to run down a suspect. But getting back to Claudia, she knew when Sarah would be doing the laundry, so wearing her Nikes, she sneaks in a back door, one with no security, perhaps because the tenants have to open it with a key. She takes the stairs to the basement and confronts Sarah about the affair with Howard. Sarah laughs at her, calling her a burnt out hag and suggesting that Howard deserves someone young and beautiful. Claudia loses control and grabs that bleach bottle you found on the floor. She swings it at Sarah's head. Drops of bleach spatter Claudia's clothes and shoes, producing telltalle white spots. Stunned, Sarah falls against the table the tenants use to fold their clothes, producing the fatal blow to her temple that's in Dr. Parrish's report. Claudia knows she has to cover her tracks. As a runner, she's in good enough shape to take the stairs up eleven flights. When she gets to the Peterson's apartment, she strips off her ruined clothes and changes to the outfit we saw her in. Carefully checking that she won't be seen, she puts her ruined clothes and her shoes down the chute to the incinerator. She was worried that Sarah's phone might have some evidence on it so she threw that down too. When Howard arrives with Justin, she tells him that she was in a conference with a client so she had her phone turned off. When the conference was over, she checked her voice mail called the school back. They informed her that Howard had picked Justin up. She claimed she came home to make sure everything was all right and told Howard she just beat him to the apartment by a couple of minutes, because she was closer. He probably yelled at her for inconveniencing him by turning off her phone and I'm willing to bet it wasn't much later that they had their interview with us."

"Wow Castle, that's even more convoluted than your theory about Howard Peterson - and just as lacking in evidence," Kate remarked.

"So we look for some," Castle suggested. "Incinerators aren't run every day. If Claudia ditched her clothes or Sarah's phone, they might still be there. Or there might be some telling electronics in the ashes. Claudia's office should know where she was during the kill zone, or if they don't, that's even more suspicious."

Kate took a sip of the coffee Castle had brought, while she considered his tale. Pushing out of her seat, she stared at the whiteboard nearby. Castle had a definite point about Claudia not appearing on the video, and she didn't have anything better. She returned to her desk and picked up the phone while Castle slid into the chair next to her to listen."

* * *

"How the hell did we get stuck with this gig?" Esposito groused as he and Ryan picked through trash that had been destined for the incinerator. "I can't believe that Beckett sent us down here based on some crazy theory from that writer."

With a gloved hand, Ryan held up a fashionable dress ruined by white splotches. "Maybe not so crazy bro. Bet the lab can get some DNA off this. Let's get some unis in here and see what else turns up."

* * *

As he sat at his laptop, Castle was feeling pleased with himself. Nikki Heat was flowing from his fingertips. Sarah Manning's phone had been damaged by the eleven story drop to the incineration bin, but a fingerprint on it had been matched to Claudia Peterson. While not enough for an arrest, it was enough to get a warrant for Claudia's DNA. According to Beckett, the lab had just come up with a match from the dress Ryan found. Claudia's office had reported her as unreachable during the kill zone. The evidence was still circumstantial, if damning, and Claudia had promptly lawyered up. But Beckett was sure that she could break her and with Captain Montgomery's urging, Beckett had invited Castle for the next morning's attempt to do so.

While Castle was immersed in penning his new novel, Ian had come up with a villain who was addicted to pies, and had decided to do some experimentation for authenticity. Starting off easy with some of his favorite things, he had put together a no-bake recipe and had it chilling in the freezer to firm up. Castle consulted the time on the bottom of his screen. Ian had announced that he would be conducting a tasting at nine P.M.. There were about five minutes to go, just enough time to take a pee and wash his hands.

Five minutes later, Ian unveiled his creation. "An ice cream pie?" Castle inquired.

Ian nodded vigorously. "Mm hmm. Potato chip fudge ice cream with an Oreo® cookie crust." Ian manipulated the pie cutter with difficulty, leaving shards of crust in the bottom of the pan, but he managed to get servings onto two plates.

Castle tasted cautiously, before eagerly filling his fork. "Wow, if you ever decide you want to do something with pies besides feeding them to super villains, you've got a fallback career. I can see it now. Ian's Perfect Pies, a mecca for connoisseurs of sweet and salty delights."

"I'm not so sure about that, Dad." Ian used his oversized foot to depress the pedal that lifted the lid of the kitchen trash can. "Look."

Castle could see the remains of several failed efforts. "Oh, I grieve at the untimely demise of so many promising sandwich cookies."

"I know, right?" Ian agreed. "I may experiment in the kitchen some more, but career wise, I think I'll stick to my drawing board."


	10. Chapter 10

Ian

Chapter 10

Kate looked up from her desk as Castle bounded out of the elevator carrying a canvas bag. "Castle you're early. We don't interview Claudia Peterson for another half hour."

"I know," Castle acknowledged. "But there's something..." The elevator doors opened again. "Oh, here he is." He waved at the man wheeling a dolly bearing a large box. "Follow me."

"Castle, what the hell?" Kate called after him as Castle led the box bearer to the break room. Castle looked over his shoulder at her. "Detective, you're gonna love this!" When they reached their destination, Castle watched as the delivery man unloaded the box and slit it open to reveal a commercial espresso machine. "You're going to help me put this together right um...," Castle checked the name on the man's uniform. "Nico?"

Nico consulted his paperwork. "Yup, you paid the set-up surcharge. Where do you want it?"

Castle hastily rearranged the grunge encrusted coffee maker and canisters of flavor disguising agents on the counter. "Here." The men maneuvered the machine together, making sure all the parts were in place.

Captain Montgomery strolled in and clapped Castle on the shoulder. "Rick, I'm looking forward to sampling something from that thing. We haven't had decent coffee in here for ten years. And," he added, "Beckett does have a soft spot for lattes."

"I know," Rick agreed. "I've heard her order off the Latte-Wow truck; non-fat milk and two pumps of sugar-free vanilla." Rick unpacked the contents of his tote, revealing the ingredients he needed, and set to work preparing Beckett's custom brew.

Kate suppressed a smile at the happy face Castle had crafted in the foam, but sipped appreciatively at the mug Castle handed her. "Castle how did you know my latte order?"

"I'm a writer. Observing is what I do. That's why I'm here, Detective. But believe me, I've got nothing on Ian," Castle confessed. "He could probably figure out what you had for breakfast this morning by the spot on your blouse. But I can't tell, is that ketchup or hot sauce?"

Kate looked down at her shirt and then at the huge dial on her wrist. "Damn, I've only got a couple of minutes to get that out before we meet with Claudia Peterson and her lawyer."

Castle pulled a stain lifting stick out of his pocket and handed it to her. "Part of parenthood and unexpected encounters with paparazzi; always be prepared." Kate attacked the stain over her left breast, admiringly regarded by Castle.

She glared back at him, handed him the stick, and picked up a file. "My face is up here, Castle. And if you want to join me in Interrogation, you'd better keep your eyes where they belong."

"Message received," Castle responded, and followed her the short distance down the hall.

Claudia Peterson and her lawyer Carter Wainwright were waiting when Kate and Castle arrived. Without greeting, Kate took a seat across from them at the table, with Castle beside her. Kate opened her file and slid a small stack of papers to Wainwright. "Copies of the latest lab results, counselor. Our lab was able to sort through the fingerprints on the handle of the dryer containing Sarah Manning's body. Your client's were there. And before you suggest that might have occurred from doing laundry, they were not found on any of the washing machines or the other dryers. If you'll look at the second sheet, you'll see that a spot of saliva on Sarah Manning's cheek contained your client's DNA as well."

"She must have been spitting mad," Castle quipped.

Kate ignored him and continued. "The third page contains the analysis of the bleach residue on a dress and a pair of shoes, both of which contained your client's DNA. It is a match with residue from a bleach bottle found at the murder scene. Adding to that your client's unexplained absence from work at the time of death, and the fact that Sarah Manning was having an affair with your client's husband, you can be sure that any jury will get the picture."

"The case is still strictly circumstantial," Wainwright asserted. "My client was known to have previous contact with Sarah Manning. Her fingerprints could have been cleaned from the washing machines by the maintenance staff, and thousands if not millions of bottle of that bleach are sold. You have no witness and no video that put my client in that laundry room at the time of death."

"Look at the fourth sheet, Mr. Wainwright," Kate instructed. "Our crime scene unit went back and inspected the path from the laundry room up the stairs and into your client's apartment. There are tiny, almost imperceptible bleach marks forming a trail over her entire route. There are even bleach marks on the carpet in the apartment. They bear witness to what happened."

"Shame that," Castle added. "Having to replace all that carpet. High end stuff too. What does that carpet sell for, a hundred dollars a square yard?"

Without changing expression, Kate kicked Castle's ankle under the table. "Mr. Wainwright, what happened will be clear to even the most obtuse juror. Your client will be convicted. But Mrs. Peterson can spare her son the trauma of a trial by confessing."

Castle caught Claudia firmly in his gaze. "Mrs. Peterson, I have a son too. Parent to parent, do you really want to put Justin through that?"

Claudia turned to Wainwright with a questioning look. "We'll need the room with the recording devices turned off, to discuss this," Wainwright requested.

Kate motioned at a uniformed cop at the door. "Fine. You have officer Harrison call us when you're ready. She'll be right outside the door." Kate flicked a switch on the microphone and rose from the table. Castle followed her through the door.

"The lab sure did a lot more work since the last time you filled me in," Castle remarked.

"That's what they do, Castle. You may spin scenarios, but they have to prove them," Kate responded.

Castle did his best to ignore both her jab and his still smarting ankle. "Want another coffee while we wait?" he offered as Kate headed back to her desk.

Kate shook her head. "As skillful a barista as you are Castle, I don't think you'll have time to make another round. We have Claudia, and Wainwright knows it. He'll convince her to take a plea. From her face, I think she might have heard what you said about Justin too."

Castle's eyes narrowed. "Nice to know I performed some small service."

Kate's analysis proved to be on the mark, and officer Harrison summoned her a few moments later, reporting that Carter Wainwright was ready to talk deal. Kate got A.D.A. Toni Gonzalez on her cell to facilitate the process, and returned with Castle to Interrogation.

After Claudia Peterson had been led off to holding, Castle sank down in his chair next to Kate's desk. "Is this your brooding writer mode, Castle?" Kate asked. "You figured out who the killer was and we nailed her. I would think you'd be ecstatic."

"I was thinking about Justin Peterson," Castle confided. "He's going to be growing up with a mother in prison. Howard Peterson may not be a murderer, but he's no prize as a father either. It's going to be tough for the boy."

"We see that all the time, Castle," Kate replied, "things in real life don't tie up all nice and neat like they do in your books. Sometimes they don't tie up at all."

"Is that what happened with your father?" Castle asked.

"My father? What are you talking about, Castle?"

Castle pointed to her watch. "I saw that. Doesn't exactly match the spike heels. I thought it might have been your father's."

"It was, Castle. But he is alive and well - now." Kate pulled a ring on a chain out from under her blouse. "This was my mother's. She was stabbed to death. It wasn't even a mugging. She still had her wallet and her jewelry. The police chalked it up to a random killing. And you were right. Whoever did it, was never caught. After I graduated from the academy, I spent the next three years trying to solve her murder, but I never could. My dad took it pretty hard. While I tried to lose myself in work, he tried to do it in a bottle. He's been sober for five years. So this," Kate explained, pointing to the watch, "is for the life I saved." She lifted the ring, almost pressing it to her lips. "And this is for the life I lost. So now your character has a back story, Castle. Does that make you happy?"

"Well I was actually thinking about cop by day and hooker by night," Castle teased, "but I can make a dark troubled past work." Castle was silent for a moment, absently pushing back a lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead. "Maybe I can make something work for Justin, too," Castle murmured. He pushed himself up from his chair. "I'll see you tomorrow, Detective."

* * *

When Castle let himself into the loft, Ian was grating a mass of cheese over tortilla chips to microwave for nachos. "Hi Dad! Did you get the killer?"

Castle sighed, laying his jacket and scarf on the chair by the door. "We did."

"You don't look happy about it." Ian observed.

"No, I am, it's just that there was some collateral damage. Say, maybe be you can help me do something about that. How would you like a new friend? There's a boy who can really use one right now. He's a few years younger than you, but I hear he's had a lot of practice at video games."

Ian tilted his head appraisingly at his father. "Yeah, sure Dad. We nerds can always use another friend."


	11. Chapter 11

Ian

Chapter 11

Kate didn't need to look up to know that the hand extending the cardboard cup belonged to Castle, or that the latte would be exactly the way she liked it. According to Esposito, Castle had arrived even before Ryan and Esposito did, but had made the coffee run while the scene was being secured. When the body was discovered, it had been early enough that gawkers were at a minimum, but now the crowd behind the yellow tape was steadily growing, craning their necks for a look at the slowly dripping victim.

Lanie Parrish was on the scene, but there wasn't much she could do, not even get a liver temperature or prints. The corpse was frozen solid, an anomaly in air temperatures that while not warm, were definitely above freezing. Castle regarded the rigid figure. "My first cold case."

"Not funny, Castle," Kate chided. "And let's hope this one isn't. Cold cases are the hardest to solve."

"She's hard alright," Castle quipped, drawing a slit-eyed glare. "Maybe I should have brought you a bear claw too, to raise your blood sugar. You are grumpy this morning, Detective - even for you."

"I just hate being at a standstill. Lanie won't have anything until she thaws out Jane Doe. The uniforms are canvassing, but I don't expect much. I think the boys and I will probably just go back to the precinct and see if we can dig something out of the mounds of missing persons files."

"Mounds?" Castle inquired. "You mean the files aren't digitized?"

Kate sighed. "It's supposed to be in process, but somehow the funding always gets diverted. Are you going to help us plow through them?"

Castle consulted his watch. "Love to, Detective, but I have an IEP meeting for Ian."

"What's that?" Kate asked.

"Sorry, special ed speak. Individualized educational plan. It's for students who need special adaptations or supports. It's been Federal law since the seventies."

"So Ian is in public school?" Kate questioned. "I would have thought that with your money, he'd be in one of New York's finer private institutions."

"I was in many of those institutions. Ian doesn't need the kind of grief I got from those snobby brats. But I get him whatever outside enrichment he needs."

"What does he need? Ian seemed to be fine to me," Kate opined.

"Yes, well Detective, I would think that you of all people would know that not everything is readily apparent. I don't have time to explain the specifics to you right now and I'm not sure Ian would want me too. I'll check with you later."

Back stiff, Castle strode away.

* * *

Mrs. Singer, the reading specialist, handed Castle a copy of Ian's latest evaluation. "Ian is reading at fifth grade level, she explained, as Castle scanned the data. That is actually quite an improvement. His last evaluation was at three point six."

"Still, at fifteen, he should be closer to tenth grade," Castle replied. "So what can we do?"

"We'll keep up the one on one here at school, Mr. Castle, because it is paying off. And I know that Ian is receiving outside help as well, I would urge you to continue that," Singer replied.

"He is doing well in other areas," the principal put in. "Except for word problems, his math scores are above normal. His art teacher is at an other school today, but she says Ian may be the most talented student she's ever had."

"Ian could draw before he ever started school, as soon as his fingers could hold a crayon. He's had art classes since preschool. But he's incredibly curious and I'm much more concerned that he be able to read what comes up on Google. Right now he has a program that converts the text from his computer to audio. He has a scanner that does the same with his textbooks. The day he doesn't need those aids anymore," Castle promised, "I'll buy pizza for every teacher here."

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Castle. We all enjoy working with Ian. But keep in mind, even the New York Times is only written at a seventh grade level," Singer explained. "With the progress Ian has been making, he should eventually be able to Google anything he wants, with or without the extra technology. He's doing much better than most students with similar challenges. He's very motivated and you've been doing a great job supporting him. Just keep doing what you're doing."

Castle left the meeting frustrated. It was very well for the other members of the team to be satisfied with Ian's progress, but he wasn't their kid. They didn't watch him struggling to make out the words in the balloons of his comic books. They didn't see the wastebaskets full of crumpled attempts at lettering the dialogue of his creations. Castle was long past expecting some kind of magical breakthrough, but he was always hoping for new insights. He did regular research on his own and had alerts everywhere. If anything promising did pop up to help his son, he would know. But at that moment there was nothing further he could do. He pulled out his phone, hoping Beckett had some kind of a break in the case. He needed the distraction.

Almost as frustrated as Castle, Kate relayed that Lanie was thawing the body very slowly, to avoid tissue damage that might obscure evidence, and that she, Ryan, and Esposito had only scratched the surface of the missing persons files. But the unis had reported that some of the residents of the neighborhood had seen some homeless sleeping in the construction site at night.

"Makes sense," Castle mused, "curing concrete puts out heat, and they would have some protection from the weather. Plus you can never underestimate the worth of a Port-a-Potty. Ian's tutor is going to be coming over tonight and they both hate having me looking over their shoulders while they're working. I could meet you at the site. Eight o'clock? We should see someone looking to get out of the cold by then."

"Alright Castle," Kate agreed. "Bring a flashlight."

Castle showed up with not only a flashlight, but with hot coffee and sandwiches to hand out. "Yeah, I saw someone," Joey, one of the men gathered around a burning drum, admitted, after swallowing a hefty bite of ham and cheese on rye. He pointed to the access road used for construction equipment. "He parked a truck over there. He came in carrying something. Then he put it down and used some boards to make himself a path to where they were pouring the cement. He picked up whatever he had again and walked across the boards and threw it in. After that, he put the boards to one side and went back to his truck. I figured he was getting rid of something he wasn't allowed to put in his trash. People come, they use the dumpsters to do that. I just thought that whatever it was, he really wanted to hide it."

"Can you describe him?" Beckett asked.

Joey shrugged. "I couldn't make out a face. It was later and darker than it is now. I think he might have been black and he was big and strong. He had no trouble lifting whatever he was carrying."

Thanks Joey," Kate said, while Castle handed him another sandwich.

Joey tipped an imaginary hat to Kate. "Always happy to help out a beautiful lady."

"Come on Castle," Kate urged, "let's see if we can find that pile of boards. Maybe CSU can get some prints."

Looking for the lumber Joey had described, they made their way further and further into the site. They were out of the view of Joey and his companions, when the makeshift path they were taking suddenly gave way under their feet and they fell hard into a gravel lined pit.


	12. Chapter 12

Ian

Chapter 12

As the shock of the fall began to pass, Kate realized that she was lying not on the ground, but on top of something softer and definitely warmer. She felt for his cheek, cupping it with her palm. "Castle, Rick, are you all right?"

Castle stirred beneath her, groaning softly and trying to draw enough air into his lungs to speak. "I knew you'd want to be on top."

Kate quickly drew her hand away from his face and rolled off of him. "Believe me Castle," she lied, "jumping your bones has been the farthest thing from my mind since we met. Are you hurt?"

"Other than what you've just done to my male ego?" Castle queried, making a few experimental movements. What little he could see in the dark seemed to tilt for a moment, then righted itself. "Wow! I think I might have gotten my chimes rung pretty good. Maybe cracked a couple of ribs too, but everything seems to work, more or less. I lost my flashlight, though. You?"

"I'm okay. You were my airbag. Not that there's anything new about that. I just got the wind knocked out of me, but I lost my light too, wait, I think I see something shining." Kate felt her way along the rough stones. "Uh huh, it's my Mag Lite." She crawled back to Castle and extended a hand. "Can you sit up?"

With Kate's help, Castle managed an upright position. Kate felt in her pocket. "Damn! My phone must have fallen out. Do you have yours?"

Wincing, Castle reached into his inside jacket pocket. "Caught safely between me and one of the softest parts of your charmingly female anatomy. 911 or the Twelfth?"

"911. I don't need this being the joke of the night at the precinct, and you should get checked out by the EMTs. But give the cell to me," Kate requested. "Things will move a lot faster with a badge number attached."

Castle handed over the phone. "Fine, but give it back to me as soon as you're done. I need to call Ian and tell him I'll be late. He'll worry."

"I would think he'd be used to Daddy having a night out," Kate assumed.

"Not as much as you think, Detective, and never without telling him I'll be gone," Castle retorted. "Just make your call and I'll make mine."

* * *

Kate fidgeted in a hard plastic chair outside the emergency room. She had checked out fine, most likely due to her Castle cushion. Castle had been right about having cracked ribs, which had to be taped up, and the doctor suspected a concussion as well. Dr. August had run an MRI, but needed to have the results interpreted before she would approve Castle's release. Kate had heard Castle make a second call to Ian, minimizing his injuries as much as he could, but essentially telling his son the truth. She was both amazed and impressed at the openness between the two of them. It was a relationship considerably less strained than the one she'd had with her parents as a teenager.

Finally, walking gingerly and carrying a hand full of paperwork, Castle found her. "You didn't have to wait, Detective. I can grab a cab."

"And if I hadn't made sure you were okay, Captain Montgomery would have my ass in a sling tomorrow," Kate asserted. "We can grab a cab together. I can at least tell the captain I delivered you home safely."

"Your concern for my well being is touching, Detective," Castle responded. "Let's go, then. Ian probably won't get any sleep until he knows I'm home."

* * *

Ian was drowsing restlessly in his father's chair in the great room of the loft when he heard the click of a key in the lock. Kate ushered Castle inside. "Dad! Thank God! And thank you for bringing him home, Detective Beckett."

Kate regarded the boy's tousled hair, bare feet, and profound look of relief. She wondered if anyone would ever be that glad to see her. "You're welcome Ian. Castle, if you're up to it, I'll see you tomorrow." She slipped out the door without saying anything further. After reassuring Ian again that he'd be fine, Castle shed everything but his t-shirt and shorts and gratefully climbed into bed.

Castle woke up feeling worse than he had the night before. His muscles had stiffened. Bruises had bloomed all along his back, as well as some spots in front where Beckett had landed, and the pain pill he'd been given at the hospital had worn off. They had given him two pills to take with him and a prescription for a few more. Like the sheaf of papers he'd brought home, the pills were on his desk in his office - if he could make it that far. He didn't have to. Ian came in carrying the packet, and a glass of water. "I hope you don't mind, Dad. I was up and I saw your instruction sheet, so I put it through my scanner to make sure I understood it. You're supposed to call the doctor if you have a headache or throw up or anything."

Castle pushed himself up against his mercifully padded headboard. "No I don't mind, but my head may be the one thing that doesn't hurt right now, so thank you. I'll take one of those." Castle held out his hand for a pill.

"Dad, I don't want to leave you by yourself," Ian fretted. "Maybe I should stay home from school this morning."

"You will do no such thing," Castle declared. "You don't get to use me as an excuse. After last night's marathon tutoring session, you should strut your stuff. At your IEP meeting, we discussed the history test you're supposed to have today. You're being graded on history, not reading, so you can take it in Mrs. Singer's room and she can help you understand the questions. For the answers you'll be on your own, and you can record them. With the Castle memory, you'll probably ace it. This is one of Alisha's days to clean up after us anyway, so if I need anything, she'll be here. And if the pill kicks in and Detective Beckett comes up with something, I may decide to go work with her. She'll keep an eye on me. So chop chop! Off to the salt mines."

"She didn't do such a great job last night," Ian observed doubtfully, but grudgingly left his father's room to get ready for school. After about twenty minutes, Castle managed to drag himself to the shower, letting the very hot water ease away some of his soreness. Between that and the effects of the wonder pill, he could manage to move around.

Castle's cell rang at eleven A.M. while he was trying to pound out a few lines about Nikki Heat. Beckett sounded excited. "Castle, Lanie got an I.D. on our victim. She's in the system and we have a file on her. She's been missing for five years! I'm going to go look up her husband, if you want to come along."

Castle looked at the one paragraph he'd managed to produce in the previous half hour. There were five typos. Trailing after Kate Beckett made about as much sense as anything. He had to get his prescription filled in any case and there was a drug store right around the corner from the Twelfth. He told Kate he'd meet her at the precinct, shortly, and took the elevator to hail a cab outside his building.


	13. Chapter 13

Ian

Chapter 13

With Castle behind her, Kate knocked on the door of the victim's apartment. A short, balding, man answered, his bespectacled eyes reaching what Castle had previously described as one of the softer parts of Kate's anatomy. She held up her badge. "Samuel Cavanaugh?"

"No," the man replied in a voice tinged with disappointment. You must have the wrong apartment."

Kate rechecked the number. "Nine seventeen."

"That's right," the man confirmed, "but I live here and my name is Roger, not Sam."

"You said your records were five years old," Castle reminded Kate. "Maybe he moved."

"Well, if you're looking for the guy who lived here before me, you're out of luck," Roger told them. "He didn't move, he's dead, some kind of random mugging. I know because when I first saw the place, all his stuff was still here. The management had a hard time figuring out what to do with it. They had to ship some of it off to the in-laws, because they took in his kids. It took me a while to get moved in."

"How long ago was that?" Kate queried.

"Ten months," Roger replied.

Kate looked back at Castle. "We'll have to track down that case."

* * *

Castle tried to find the least painful position in his chair by Kate's desk, as she stared at her computer screen. "Here it is, Samuel Cavanaugh, it's a cold case. He was shot. No ballistics match. No trace evidence. He had just been to an ATM, but he didn't have the money on him. It was assumed that someone just shot him for the cash, but it didn't fit into any cluster of similar crimes."

"Isn't a one-off unusual for that kind of robbery?" Castle asked.

Kate nodded slowly. "It is. If an M.O. works, usually the perp will keep it up until he gets caught. Given how we found Sam's wife Melanie's body, there might have been something else entirely going on."

"So now we're working two murders?" Castle wondered.

"Could be, there has to be a connection," Kate asserted. "To have both the husband and wife murdered is too much of a coincidence."

"And too much of a tragedy," Castle added. "Those kids lost both their parents. So where do we go from here?"

"Where I'd have to go anyway," Castle. "With the husband gone, Melanie's parents, the Davidsons, are the next of kin. I need to talk to them." Kate flipped through Melanie's file. "They live in White Plains. You up for a drive, Castle?"

Castle fingered the pill bottle in his jacket pocket and decided he could survive forty minutes on the road with Beckett. With his drug induced error rate, it would most likely be more productive than trying to write any more of his current chapter. "I'm in."

* * *

Forty minutes stretched to two hours. Two containers of small, sharp, metal parts had fallen off a truck, spreading chaos across the highway. Before the drivers knew what was happening, dozens of cars had blown tires, blocking all lanes. While the highway patrol worked diligently to get the mess cleared and traffic flowing again, Kate and Castle sat in her unit and waited. Kate could see Castle shifting in his seat. "I had no idea we'd be in the car this long. How are you doing, Castle?" she asked.

Castle looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She seemed sincerely concerned. "Probably about as well as I'd be doing anywhere else. There's no such thing as a comfortable position right now. I just hope I don't have to pee before we get moving again."

Kate groaned. "I wish you hadn't said that. Now I'm thinking about finding a restroom. It looks like they've just about set up a lane ahead of us. We'll be moving soon, probably at a crawl, but I think there's an exit in about a mile. I'll take it and you can stretch a little and we can both find some facilities."

"There is actually both a McDonald's and a Wendy's at that exit. Ian and I used to come this way a lot. There used to be a really good comic book store in White Plains and when you have a kid, you learn where all the pit stops are," Castle explained. "There's a diner as well, the kind with red vinyl on the seats. They serve coffee in real mugs and the shakes are about ten levels up from fast food - real milk and real ice cream. Not only do straws stand up in them, but spoons do too."

Kate unconsciously ran the tip of her tongue over her lips as Castle watched in fascination. "Mm. Do they have strawberry? Most places only have chocolate and vanilla."

"They do," Castle confirmed, "and whipped cream and cherries too."

"Sounds good, Castle."

* * *

In the upholstered comfort of an old-style booth, Castle sipped at the water he'd requested to down a pill, while Kate used a long spoon to reach the last of the ice cream in the bottom of her shake. She licked the spoon and put it down sighing. "This was unexpectedly nice, Castle, but the road should be clear by now and I need to tell the Davidsons what happened to their daughter."

"How long does it take before it gets easier?" Castle asked.

Kate shrugged. "I'll have to let you know on that one, Castle. Haven't gotten there yet."

* * *

Mary Davidson sat on the couch in the Davidson's living room, dry-eyed but clinging tightly to her husband's hand. Kate and Castle occupied old fashioned wing-backed chairs across from the couple. "We knew Melanie was dead. Sam said she'd run off. She'd done it before, back when she was on drugs, but that was before the kids were born. She was clean and she was a good mother. She would never have left her children," Mary insisted. "Sam maybe, he was a real bastard, but never the children."

"What do you mean he was a bastard?" Castle questioned.

"He was controlling of her and the kids, paranoid, and he cheated on her," Ben Davidson declared. "Melanie knew. There were unexplained absences, the smell of perfume on his jacket. Melanie even found an earring on the floor of the car, an earring that wasn't hers. Maybe Melanie should have left him, but with her history, she didn't want to take a chance that he'd get custody of the kids. So she hung in. Of course when she disappeared, he had custody anyway, until some mugger did us and the world a favor. Those kids are happy now. They're growing up with fresh air and a place to play. I just wish Melanie could see them.

Kate leaned toward the grieving couple, her voice low, and as gentle as Castle had ever heard it. "I know it's hard at a time like this, but do you know of anyone who would have wanted Melanie dead?"

"Have you been listening, Detective?" Ben Davidson retorted, anger etching even deeper lines in his time worn face "You're as bad as the cop who who investigated her disappearance. He took it for granted that she'd run off too; took everything Sam told him at face value. But it should be obvious to you. Sam Cavanaugh killed Melanie. She was killed by her own husband. May he burn in hell!"

"What Ben Davidson said made sense," Castle suggested, as he and Kate returned to her car. "Statistically the spouse is the most likely killer and the Davidsons didn't make Sam sound sound warm and fuzzy. Of course if you'd heard Ian's maternal grandmother describe me, you might have believed I was an ax murderer, at least until I had my third bestseller. Then she started to expect trips to the Bahamas for Christmas."

"Sam may have killed Melanie, Castle," Kate allowed. "But then who killed Sam?"


	14. Chapter 14

Ian

Chapter 14

Castle slid into the passenger seat of Kate's unit and looked at his watch. Barring another disaster on the highway, he should make it home not too long after Ian did. Kate started the car as Castle attempted to sort through the details of the case. "Usually if a husband is abusing a wife or cheating on her, you'd expect her to take him out. But that couldn't have happened here," Castle mused. "Assuming that Sam's killing wasn't random, there's someone else involved. But who?"

"Castle, we may get to that, but Melanie is still our primary case. Sam probably did it, but we still have to prove it. Ben Davidson seemed to think the detective who investigated Melanie's case dropped the ball. I really need to talk to him."

"Is he still on the job?" Castle asked.

"If you consider working as the sheriff in a small town in New Jersey on the job, yes.

"Are you going to call him?" Castle inquired.

Kate considered for a moment. "Just to set up an interview, hopefully for tomorrow. I want to look him in the face, watch his body language. If he's the slacker Davidson suggested he is, I should be able to see it. Either way I should be able to pick up more details on Melanie's case."

"Will you call me when you have the trip to Jersey nailed down?" Castle queried.

With an incredible shake still a sweet memory on her tongue, Kate idly wondered what Castle knew about food along the New Jersey Turnpike. "Sure, Castle. I'll let you know."

* * *

After climbing the stairs to the upper level of his loft, Castle found his son bending intently over his drawing board, but Ian looked up when his father came to the open door of his room. "Hey, Dad. How are you feeling?"

"Less like I've been run over by a semi. I'm about down to a Cooper Mini," Castle replied. "How'd your history test go?"

"It was okay Dad. When I looked at the test paper, the dates didn't make any sense, but then Mrs. Singer read them to me and I remembered what they all were. I could even see the battles and stuff in my head. I wanted to draw them and Mrs. Singer suggested that might be a good project later for extra credit, but for then, she just had me speak all my answers into a digital recorder. She put what I said on a USB drive for Mr. Kaplowitz."

"Are you drawing battles now?" Castle asked.

"No, Mrs. Singer has to clear that with Kappy first," Ian explained. "This is more stuff about my new villain, Pie Eater." Castle choked at the name, but Ian was too absorbed in his creation to notice. "He's decided he wants to steal a whole pie factory by transporting it to a pocket universe, but he doesn't have enough energy to to run his dimensional rift generator, so he's trying to cause the formation of a micro black hole to power the thing. The problem is, his calculations are off and if Dweeby doesn't stop him in time, he'll cause a tear in the time space continuum that could swallow half the planet."

"Sounds exciting," Castle commented, "but are you wedded to calling him 'Pie Eater'?"

Ian gazed at his father, confused. "Why?"

"Um, the name has some connotations that - we can discuss at a later date. But they have nothing to do with the consumption of foodstuffs," Castle responded.

"So something about sex, right?" Ian closed his eyes for a moment, replaying a scene in his head. "Booger made a joke about pie in _Revenge of the Nerds_. I didn't get it. Is that what you mean?"

"Something like that. It just might be better if you called your villain something else, especially if you want to share him outside this loft, Castle suggested. "But while we are on the subject of foodstuffs, I was thinking about ordering in from Comfort Corner tonight, unless you'd rather go for something from The Golden Palace."

"Comfort Corner is good, Dad," Ian decided, "especially if they have some of those giant cookies."

"Well if they don't," Castle offered, "I should be able to talk them into putting a batch in for us. We are very good customers."

Ian descended the stairs as soon as he heard the doorbell, but his father was already generously tipping the delivery girl and asking her to thank the chef. Castle held up a paper bag showing a few telltale grease spots. "Cookies fresh out of the oven. Feels like they're still warm. Meatloaf was the special of the night, with mashed potatoes, gravy, and green beans."

Castle put the food down and Ian automatically got a bottle of ketchup out of the refrigerator. After quickly putting out plates and flatware, they settled themselves far enough apart at the table to allow Castle some extra leg room. "So Dad, did you find out who your corpsicle is?" Ian asked as he liberally coated coated his meatloaf in what he considered his indispensable condiment.

Castle scooped a mound of mashed potatoes onto his plate and poured warm gravy on them and his own ketchup-free meatloaf. "Uh hm, but it just opened up more questions. Detective Beckett and I should be meeting with someone tomorrow to address some of them."

"Ian's fork stopped in mid-air. He stared at his father. "You're avoiding giving me details, which probably means there's something you think might be upsetting about the case. I'm pretty tough, Dad. I know the world is full of crappy things. Some of them happened to kids I go to school with."

"Right. Well the woman who was murdered left two kids, and then their father was murdered too. There's a good chance the father killed the mother."

"Are the kids okay?" Ian asked.

"I think so. They're with their grandparents. I saw them playing on the lawn, just for a minute, but they looked happy," Castle related.

Ian poked thoughtfully at his own mound of potatoes. "That's a good thing, right?"

"I certainly hope so," Castle responded. "I certainly hope so."

* * *

There wasn't much going on in the little town of Cape Layla on the Jersey Shore. It still was too cold for the beach and until the temperature rose, most of the tourists enjoyed the exciting atmosphere of nearby gambling mecca Atlantic City, more. Still the five thousand or so year round residents had enough minor skirmishes to keep Sheriff Sloan employed, if not busy. He proposed meeting not at his office, which he described as an over-sized broom closet, but at a local restaurant, citing better coffee and excellent fried clams. Kate and Castle availed themselves of both, Kate silently noting that the coffee from the machine Castle had installed in the break room was superior to what she was drinking with the sheriff.

"I don't know what to tell you, Detective," Sloan insisted. "Melanie Cavanaugh showed all the signs of a runaway housewife. She had a drug history and there was supposed to be a boyfriend somewhere, according to the husband. He told me there were times that Melanie came home very late, and the doorman confirmed that."

"Wait a minute," Castle interrupted, "Melanie's parents told us Melanie thought Sam was having an affair."

"It's possible they both were," Sloan admitted. "I didn't really check much on the husband. He wasn't the one who was missing. But I did talk to a friend of Sam's, Charles something. It's in my case notes. Big black fellow. Has a moving and storage company. He said that neither of them was happy in the marriage. So I would imagine it wouldn't be unreasonable to suspect affairs on both sides. Of course, I didn't know Melanie was dead, so thinking she took off with some guy was the natural conclusion. If the husband was stepping out on her, it wasn't really relevant at the time." Sloan dipped a clam into tartar sauce and popped it in his mouth. "I'm sure you know how many outstanding missing persons cases there are in the city. If we heard hoof beats, we didn't have time to look for zebras. We stuck with horses. Homicide cops like you, Detective Beckett, have a much lower case load. You get to dig a lot deeper." Sloan reached for another clam.

"Sheriff Sloan," Kate assured him, "digging deep is exactly what I intend to do."

"So what did you think of Sloan?" Castle inquired, as Kate began the drive back to New York.

"I think he was trying hard to excuse a lazy ass investigation," Kate declared. "But he did give us a lead, especially since our witness at the construction site thought the guy dumping Melanie's body was strong and black. We need to check out Charles."


	15. Chapter 15

Ian

Chapter 15

Even at a distance it was obvious that Charles Wyler was strong. The sleeves of his work shirt sheathed biceps hardened not in the gym, but by the daily lifting and carrying of furniture and household goods. Kate and Castle found him unloading a truck, his face damp with sweat, even in the cool temperatures of early spring. Strong as he appeared, Castle could see him flinch when Kate held up her badge.

"You want to talk about Sam Cavanaugh?" he exclaimed, hostility flashing from his dark eyes. "It's a little late for that. He's dead. He's been dead for ten months."

"And his wife's been dead for five years," Kate interjected.

"She's dead?" Charles repeated. "No, she ran off with some bozo."

"She didn't run anywhere. She was, to coin a phrase, frozen in place," Castle remarked.

"I don't understand," Charles insisted.

"We found her body, Mr. Wyler," Kate explained, "and it was frozen. It had been frozen for five years. From what we've been given to understand, you knew the Cavanaughs well. In fact, you were Sam Cavanaugh's best friend. You should, if anyone would, know who would have wanted to kill Melanie Cavanaugh."

"Drug dealer, maybe another junkie," Charles speculated, the moisture on his face increasing. "She was into drugs."

"Actually she was clean." Kate returned. "There were no traces of drugs found in her body. Care to try again?"

"How would I know?" Charles exploded. "One day she was just gone!"

Kate handed him her card. "Alright Mr. Wyler, thank you for your time. If you think of anything, give me a call."

"You think he's lying," Castle observed as they returned to Kate's car.

"And how did you figure that out, Castle?" Kate questioned.

"You thanked him for his time." Castle explained. "You always thank people for their time when you think they're lying. I changed the phrase a little, don't want to give away your secrets to the bad guys, but I put it in the book already."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Castle, you know you can be really annoying sometimes?"

Castle pursed his lips as he thought about it. "Only sometimes? I guess that's progress. So if he's lying, where do we go from here?"

"We do a background check on Charles Wyler, see where he and Sam Cavanaugh intersected and why Charles might have been dumping Melanie Cavanaugh's frozen body."

"While we're here, shouldn't we get some pictures of Wyler's trucks? Can't you compare them to the traffic footage near the site the night Melanie's body was dumped and see if they match?"

"Good call, Castle," Kate admitted grudgingly.

Castle pulled his phone out of his pocket. "I can do it. My phone's a newer model than yours, also bigger."

"Men," Kate muttered. "Always thinking about bigger."

"Detective Beckett," Castle assured her, "when you have the goods, you don't have to think about it."

Kate snorted.

At the conference table at the precinct, Castle examined the public records for Charles Wyler's real estate holdings. "This is interesting," he remarked.

"Kate looked up from the file she was examining. "What is, Castle?

Wyler's parents left him a house out on Staten Island. It's small, less than a thousand square feet, but it's practically on the water, where the people who crew the fishing boats live. He lives in an apartment in Manhattan, but he hasn't been renting the house out. His wife lived in the apartment too, but she divorced him not long before Sam Cavanaugh was killed. Wyler had a small fishing boat, but he sold it a few years back. A dock near his house would have been a good place to keep it. Anyway, the house was damaged by a storm surge and the city condemned it. Right before Melanie's body was dumped, the house was put on a list of properties slated for demolition. Interesting timing, don't you think?" Castle offered.

Kate sighed. "Okay Castle, I can see you're just dying to spin the rest of the story. You might as well get it over with."

"I was just thinking," Castle began, "That body would've had to be kept frozen somewhere, maybe in a freezer. People who fish often have freezers to store their catch. Suppose Charles had one at his house and that's where Melanie's body has been the last five years. Then the city says they're going to knock the house down and Charles has to find another place, preferably somewhere she'll never be found, so the story about her running off can be preserved. He hears about a construction site where they're pouring concrete and figures he can lose a body forever. Unfortunately for Charles, the foreman doesn't think the cement is flowing out right. He checks it and finds Melanie's body."

"Castle, even if it happened that way, why would Charles Wyler keep Melanie's body in a freezer for five years?" Kate questioned.

"Ah," Castle surmised, "if Charles cared about Melanie, he might have been reluctant to let her go. Picture this. Charles is Sam's best friend, so he sees a lot of Melanie. They're friends too. They trust each other. But Sam is cheating on Melanie and she turns to Charles for comfort. Then it becomes more than comfort. They start meeting at Charles' house, maybe when the kids are staying with the Davidsons. That would explain Melanie's late nights. But according to Ben Davidson, Sam was controlling and paranoid. He regards Melanie as his property. So one night, five years ago, Sam follows Melanie to Charles' house. Lanie said Melanie was killed by blunt force trauma to the head. Maybe there was a fight and Melanie got hit by accident. Or maybe she tried to stop Sam from going after Charles and Sam hit her. Either way, there's a dead body. Sam tells Charles that if he tells anyone how Melanie died, he'll tell Charles' wife about Charles' affair with Melanie. Sam also warns Charles that if he opens his mouth, Sam will claim that Charles and Melanie had a lovers quarrel and that she called Sam to rescue her, but Charles killed her. Charles has no choice but to keep his silence. So they put the body in Charles' freezer. Fast forward to ten months ago. Charles is divorced and doesn't care if his wife knows he had an affair, but Sam can still try to pin a murder on him. So he follows Sam from an ATM and shoots him. Then he takes the money to make it look like a robbery. The cops fall for it and if it hadn't been for Charles having to move Melanie's body, no one would ever have suspected him of anything."

"Castle, strangely enough, that actually makes some kind of sense," Kate conceded, "but how would we prove it?"

"The gun that shot Sam was never found, was it?" Castle asked. "That's why there still isn't a ballistics match. Maybe Charles still has it."

"It's possible," Kate agreed, "but if we're going to find it, we'll need a warrant. And I'll need those pictures you took on your super-sized phone. We can scrub the traffic video, not just near where Melanie's body was found, but the whole route to Charles' Wyler's moving company. If we can trace one of Wyler's trucks making that trip, we'll have enough for an affidavit." Kate pulled out her phone. "I'll call traffic now. We should have the video in the morning."

* * *

Ian slid a plate with two slices of pizza on it, and a can of Dr. Pepper, next to Castle's laptop as Castle typed furiously. "Thanks son, I appreciate you making the food run. I'm kind of in the zone right now."

"No problem. I know the feeling, Dad," Ian empathized. "You must have come up with a really good story."

Castle's eyes crinkled as a smile captured his lips. "It's definitely good for the book, but I think I even may have impressed Detective Beckett today. I'll just have to see how the case plays out."

"Well I'll leave you to your work," Ian said. A grin spread over Ian's face as he walked away. "I knew he liked her," he muttered to himself. "Something for Dad besides work and me. It's about time."

N/A To the guests who want smut and are criticizing me for rating the story M when it doesn't have any, I think you may be confusing M with MA, which this site does not allow. Here is the definition of M from the rules:

 _Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16 with non-explicit suggestive adult themes, references to some violence, or coarse language.  
Fiction M **can** contain adult language, themes and suggestions. **Detailed descriptions of physical interaction of sexual or violent nature is considered Fiction MA.**_

Notice it does not say that sexual scenes are required for an M rating. If they are there, the language is not supposed to be explicit. This story does have adult themes, (adultery) references to violence, and it does have coarse language (F-word). It's M. You have nothing to complain about. If you want to report me for actually following the rules, go ahead. There are sex scenes, written in a permissible fashion, coming. My regular readers know how I do this and the kind of language I use to generate some heat. But these are season one story lines. On the show, nothing except a kiss happened until the end of season 4. I'll get there a lot sooner, but a foundation must be laid. Patience, it won't be much longer. If you want something racier, there are other writers who push the borders more than I do. Read their stuff. There are also other sites that have no problems with explicit sex. If that's your thing, enjoy! This story is about the relationship of Castle with his son and how it impacts the way he and Kate interact. If you want a story about something else, read one! And while you're at it, have the guts to register, so you're not anonymous trolls. Thanks, I feel better.


	16. Chapter 16

Ian

Chapter 16

Kate studied the traffic video. There was no doubt about it. Charles Wyler was the one who dumped Melanie Cavanaugh's body. As to the rest of Castle's theory. She'd get her warrant and see what turned up.

The police simultaneously raided Wyler's apartment, business, and house on Staten Island. They found a freezer at the house and CSU collected traces of blood from inside to be tested against Melanie's DNA. A hidden floor safe was found at Wyler's moving company, containing a pistol of the same caliber that had killed Sam Cavanaugh.

* * *

Charles Wyler sat next to his attorney with his head in his hands. Across the table, Kate Beckett and A.D.A Toni Gonzalez regarded him stonily while Castle looked on in anticipation. Kate addressed the lawyer and passed analyses of evidence to Wyler's attorney, one sheet at a time. "Mr. Creston, as you can see, two types of blood were found in the freezer at Mr. Wyler's house. We aren't concerned with the blood belonging to fish, but we are, with the blood belonging to Melanie Cavanaugh. That in itself provides pretty strong evidence that even if your client didn't kill her himself, he was an accessory. Now, the gun found in a safe at your client's place of business is a thirty-eight caliber Luger. The ballistics match the bullet that killed Sam Cavanaugh. Moreover, CSU examined the safe, there were no signs of tampering and your client has not been able to provide the name of anyone else who might have had the combination. Now when you add to that, a witness seeing a man matching your client's description dumping something at the site where Melanie Cavanaugh's body was found and the video of your client's truck making the trip between the site and his business, the case against your client is strong for not one murder, but two."

Toni Gonzales addressed the suspect directly. "Mr. Wyler, unless you can make me understand why I shouldn't, I intend to charge you with the murders of both Melanie Cavanaugh and Samuel Cavanaugh and ask for the maximum penalty. You will spend the rest of your life in prison."

Wyler looked at his attorney, who was staring grimly at the evidence Kate had presented. Creston nodded.

Wyler drew a shaky breath. "Sam Cavanaugh and I served together in Iraq. We had each other's backs. I thought he was a good guy. But after we came back to the states, he changed. The way he treated Melanie, it was terrible. She couldn't look at anyone or talk to anyone, without Sam accusing her of cheating. Maybe Sam suspected Melanie because he was cheating himself. He was sleeping with a co-worker at the bank where he worked. Anyway, Melanie started coming to see me me at my house on Staten Island. We never intended to have an affair. Melanie just wanted a place where she could relax for a few hours. It just happened. Then one night Sam showed up with a baseball bat. He kicked the door in and started swinging at Melanie. I tried to get between them, to protect her, so Sam swung at me." Charles pointed to his forearm. "He gave me a hairline fracture here. You can check. The hospital must have records. Then he got my knee too and while I was down he went after Melanie. By the time I could even try to get up again it was all over. Melanie was dead. Sam shoved her in my freezer and swore if I told anyone, he'd pin it all I me. I'd lose my wife, my business, everything. I didn't know what else to do, so I just left Melanie in there.

After my wife divorced me, I figured I didn't have much else to lose. I went to Sam and begged him to turn himself in, to give Melanie's parents and his kids some closure. He just laughed and repeated his threat that with Melanie dying at my house and being in my freezer, I was the one who would go down for the crime. Worse than that, he had gotten even more obsessive than he was when he killed Melanie. His kids were living in terror of him. But I couldn't report him without having him turn me into the cops. I didn't know what to do. I started watching his apartment. When I saw the Davidsons pick up the kids and knew they were safe, I followed Sam. I shot him and took his money to make it look like a robbery. It wasn't a murder. It was an execution of a murderer."

Toni Gonzalez nodded. We'll have your statement written up, Mr. Wyler. If, and only if, it squares with the facts, Mr. Creston and I will work out a plea."

Gonzalez left and Charles Wyler was returned to holding until he could be transported to Central Booking. "Castle," Kate said as he settled broodingly into his accustomed spot by her desk, "I'd have thought you'd be gloating. Your story was pretty close to what Wyler told us. You cracked the case."

Castle shook his head. "Yeah, but the real version is even more tragic. We sent Sam Cavanaugh and Charles Wyler off to war. We taught them how to kill. Sam couldn't turn off his rage, even toward his family and his friend. Charles couldn't see a better solution than pulling the trigger. There had to be another way."

"There was a better way," Kate replied. "If Charles had called the police after Melanie was killed, the forensics of the blows from the bat and his own injuries probably would have cleared him. He just didn't trust the system to work. Still, it finally did. We'll be closing two murders and the Davidsons and their grandchildren will get some measure of peace. Trust me, that's worth a lot."

"I suppose you would know," Castle agreed. "Okay, listen. It's Friday night. Ian is staying over with a buddy tonight. They're going to binge watch all the episodes of that Joss Whedon series that got canceled a few years ago. So how about if I take you out for an end of case dinner. You can pick a place with a ridiculously overpriced menu, to punish me for my intrusion into your space."

Kate knew she should say no. Castle was already getting to her, way too much. Damn, she had actually dreamed about how he felt underneath her when they fell. Still even if she hated to admit it, she might not have solved the murders without him. Accepting his invitation would only be fair, and she could never afford Le Coq on her own. "Okay Castle, you're on."

* * *

Patrons at Le Coq were jammed into the bar to wait while their tables were being prepared, but the Girard, the maitre d', greeted Castle warmly. "Mr. Castle, it has been too long." He waved at the crush at the bar. "I have a table away from all this, just for you and your beautiful companion."

Girard led the way to a table in a secluded corner. After the couple was seated, a waiter arrived bearing menus and a stand with an ice bucket containing a bottle of Dom Perignon. Castle was just opening his bill of fare when a shot rang out from the front of the restaurant.


	17. Chapter 17

Ian

Chapter 17

"Castle, down!" Kate hissed, pulling her off duty weapon and phone from her purse. Castle did the best he could to fold his large frame beneath the table. Kate used her cell to call in "shots fired," tucked her phone into her bra, then crouching low, tried to work her way to to a spot where she could get a view of the shooter. More shots echoed through the room. "Damn it! I can't get eyes on him."

"Beckett," Castle whispered, "there's another way." Castle pointed to a door in the back corner of the dining area, not far from their table. "There's a passageway through there to the restrooms and then back behind the bar. I used it to get away from an overenthusiastic fan once. He wanted..." Kate glared at him. "Never mind what he wanted. It can get you to where you can scope out that maniac. I'll show you. With his injuries from their fall still twinging, Castle kept as low as he could and led the way with Kate close behind him. They passed several employees who had sought refuge in the hidden space and regarded Kate's gun with alarm. "N.Y.P.D.," Kate softly identified herself.

A right turn led to the bar. Kate took cover behind the thick mahogany and Castle took a place on the floor beside her. Castle yelped involuntarily when another shot broke the mirror behind them, a shower of glass fragments exploding. "Beckett, where are your buddies in blue?"

"Castle, it's only been about two minutes. I haven't heard sirens. They're probably not here yet, and when they are, they'll have to set up a command post outside to figure out what's going on. They can't just rush in. They'll be asking me for tactical information but right now I still haven't got any." She started to rise, but another shot knocked loose a chunk of dark wood.

Castle stuck his phone above the level of the bar and quickly snapped a picture. He showed the image to Beckett. "Oh God, Castle!" she responded. "He has extra clips stuffed in his pockets. He could shoot everyone before ESU can get here. I need to take him out, but he has easy cover behind a pillar. If I try to shoot him, he'll have a clear shot at me."

"I can distract him," Castle declared.

"What? No! Castle, you'll get yourself killed!"

Castle eased back to a refrigerator where champagne was chilling and pulled out a bottle. He stuck it under his jacket to warm. "No I won't. He'll never see me," he asserted. "Just get ready. I'll set the pick. You take the shot." With his body pressed against the backside of the bar, Castle began to unscrew the wire cage surrounding the champagne cork. "With any luck, this will sound like a gun going off. He'll go for it and you can go for him."

To Kate it seemed as if everything happened in slow motion. The cork exploded from the bottle, flying upwards. As it drew the shooter's attention, she put three shots solidly into his center of mass. He hit the polished hardwood floor, red spreading across the front of his shirt. Cautiously Kate emerged from behind the bar to check the still body. She felt for a pulse in his neck, there was none. She pulled out her phone and reported that the suspect was down. She could finally hear sirens in the distance.

Castle stayed with Kate for her mandatory debriefings. It was close to midnight when they stood on the curb outside the restaurant watching the police units pull way. "Well at least no one was killed except the shooter," Castle said. "One of the servers and two of the diners took hits, but Captain Montgomery told me the EMTs thought they'd be all right. What you did tonight, Detective Beckett, was a feat truly worthy of my new heroine, and you never did get your dinner. I don't know about you, but I'm starved."

"Remy's is open all night, Castle," Kate suggested. "Their burgers are pretty great."

"True," Castle agreed, "but after everything that's happened, this is a night that truly requires a superior wine. Red would go with burgers and I keep a couple of excellent bottles at home. They're especially helpful for keeping both of Ian's grandmothers happy. We could swing by Remy's first."

Butterflies slammed their wings against the wall of Kate's stomach at the idea of being alone with Castle at his loft. Still, if he hadn't thought of using the champagne, the night might have turned out very differently. She owed him, not just for helping to solve the Cavanaugh case, but quite possibly for her life and the lives of the people at Le Coq. "Alright Castle," she acquiesced.

* * *

Castle opened a bottle of wine to breathe and lit the gas log in the fireplace. He spread a blanket on the floor in front of the dancing flames and laid out the still warm burgers and fries. "Midnight picnic, Detective Beckett?"

Kate sat on the blanket and Castle joined her. Castle poured wine into sparkling glass stemware. He handed Kate a glass and raised his. "To surviving the battle of Le Coq."

"I'll drink to that, Castle. But, I still don't understand why that man came into the restaurant with a gun in the first place. He didn't act like terrorist."

"I don't think he was a terrorist." Castle replied, "While you were getting grilled by the shooting team, I talked to some of the patrons. They said he was muttering things about worthless rich leeches putting him out of house and home. He must have been going through hard times, and in his crazed mind he was taking it out on the people responsible. I suppose it will all come out in the investigation. I'm sure that before the end of the news cycle, details real and imagined will be splashed across the screens of the city."

"No doubt about imagined details," Kate agreed. "I'm surprised they don't have a channel called 'Let's Just Make It Up News.'"

"I think there's at least one cable channel like that," Castle opined, "the name is just a lot shorter. And of course there's _Page Six_. If I did half the things they said I did, I would have died of exhaustion by now."

"I'm just glad you didn't die of lead poisoning tonight," Kate mumbled into her wine.

"Why Detective Beckett, I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

Kate's eyes locked with his. "Must be the wine," she murmured.

Castle leaned toward her, their faces inches from each other. "Then maybe I should taste it," he whispered huskily. His lips advanced by fractions of inches giving her space and time to break the spell. Kate knew she should pull back, but couldn't force her body to move. Once their mouths met, thought was impossible. From the first moment Castle's eyes had smiled at her from a dust jacket, Kate had wanted this, and now the walls she'd so carefully constructed around that longing had been breached.

Her tongue sought his, but it wasn't enough, not nearly enough. She pressed herself to him, her breasts almost flat against the breadth of his chest. Her hands plunged into the luxurious thickness of his hair. Heat scorched through their clothes, making the separation unbearable. Castle eased one strap of her dress over her shoulder. She arched, gasping as his lips moved from hers, to the creamy skin he'd exposed. Her hands fled his hair, slipping beneath his waistband. The air whooshed from his lungs. "Kate, if you're going to decide to put on the brakes, for God's sake do it now."

There was only the sound of the breath sobbing from her throat as she released him from the bondage of his fastenings. He coaxed her dress lower, unclasping the lacy covering beneath it to taste the pink buds straining for his attention. She ground desperately against his growing heat, her need urgent and unrelenting. He lifted her skirt and pulled aside the scrap of damp silk that separated them. She held him, guiding him to where her body screamed to be filled. It was a perfect joining, as if a master craftsman had created them for each other. They moved in synchrony, their lips finding their mates again, tongues thrusting and twining in the most ancient of dances. Kate could feel his energy flowing within her, sensitizing every nerve with a greed that demanded still more. She writhed mindlessly at his touch as his hand slipped between them to the center of her desire. Waves of fevered response flung her over a cliff of sensation. A shuddering release overcame them both, sapping and energizing simultaneously, and they lay drained yet replete in each other's arms.

A/N Double celebration, Easter and Nathan's birthday! Have a great day!


	18. Chapter 18

Ian

Chapter 18

It took a moment for Kate to remember where she was. Even with the fire and Castle's arms around her, it had grown chilly and she and Castle had moved from the blanket on the floor to soft comfort of his king sized bed. This was a place she'd imagined with both fear and longing. Castle's books had been her comfort and mainstay since her mother died, something her mother had loved that Kate could hang onto and cherish. The man behind them was unexpected. She hated to admit that she had believed the Page Six accounts of the playboy millionaire. Despite her infatuation with the man on the book cover, that Castle had been easy to dismiss, even ridicule. But other than his physical form, to which his pictures had done no justice, the man in whose embrace she lay could have been from another universe. Instead of the self-centered brat the media had portrayed, he was a man who stood solidly behind his son and had stayed at her side in her most dangerous moment. She no longer had an easily dismissed crush, she was falling in love. That realization was exhilarating but terrifying.

Castle drew her toward him as he opened his eyes. "Good morning."

"What time is it?" Kate asked. "Will Ian be coming home?"

Castle glanced at his watch on the nightstand. "Relax Kate," Castle assured her, "it's only eight o'clock. He and his buddies should be sleeping in until noon." Kate shifted nervously against him. "You're not just worried about Ian showing up."

"Castle, this happened so fast. We went through a life-threatening experience and we just grabbed onto each other. I'm just not sure how real it is."

"Kate, I think you know by now, that contrary to my image, I don't fall casually into bed. It may have been sharing a refuge behind a bar while bullets whizzed over our heads, that brought us together, but that pull has been inexorable from the moment you stuck your badge in my face. For me this is as real as it gets. Is it real for you?"

"Castle it's real, but it's complicated. Because of my mother, my last ten years have been dedicated to seeking justice. There hasn't been room for much else. I want this. I'm just not sure how to handle it."

"Kate, that makes two of us," Castle confessed. "I guess we'll just have to feel our way." He let his fingers drift over her body. "But feeling our way could be part of the fun."

They were startled by a loud rumble from Kate's stomach. Castle laughed. "We missed two dinners last night. The gunman ruined the one at Le Coq and then we found something more urgent to do than eating our burgers. Shall I make breakfast?"

"That depends. Do you cook as well as you make coffee?" Kate asked.

"Opinions vary." Castle confessed. "I've seen how much you enjoy strawberry shakes, but how do you feel about chocolate?"

"Definitely one of the major food groups," Kate declared.

"Great! What sounds better to you, chocolate mousse chimichangas or s'morelets?"

Kate's face scrunched in doubt. "Maybe we should start slow. Chocolate chip pancakes?"

Castle grinned. "Specialty of the house."

Kate savored the fluffy and slightly sweet creation Castle had flipped from the pan to her plate. "Castle, I think if you ever get tired of writing, you could always get a job at House of Flapjacks. These are wonderful."

Castle leaned over the counter to where she perched on a stool, and caressed her cheek. "With you as my muse, I'm not going to tire of writing anytime soon."

"Speaking of that, Castle, I am going to have to go to the precinct and put together a report about what happened at Le Coq. I gave my statement last night, but that's just the start. You want to come and help fill in the details or do you need to stay and wait for Ian?"

"Ian and I have a father and son Terra Quest team-up scheduled for this afternoon, but my morning is yours. I'll record a message telling him where I am, just in case he needs me."

* * *

Kate and Castle stepped off the elevator together at the Twelfth. Ryan and Esposito were off duty and the other detectives didn't even look up from their desks. Kate sighed in relief. She wasn't quite ready to share the new version of her relationship with Castle yet, and hadn't looked forward to answering questions. One person she did want to tell, was Lanie Parish, but Lanie was off for the weekend and Kate knew her friend had plans. That conversation could wait.

Castle settled into his accustomed place as Kate turned on her computer. Kate typed, stopping every so often to ask Castle if he remembered something the way she did. The work went a lot faster than Kate had anticipated and they were finished before noon. She surreptitiously brushed Castle's hand. "You should go home."

"That's what I was thinking," Castle agreed. "I just can't seem to get enough of you, even just writing a report. You could join Ian and me for gaming. It would give you two a chance to get to know each other." Castle could see Kate draw back. "Unless you think that's rushing things."

"Castle, If this is your father son time, I don't want to intrude."

"It's our father son time because except for mystery opponents online I can't get anyone else to play with me," Castle explained with a wry smile. "I think Ian will be glad if someone takes the pressure off him a little. Besides, I'm a prince in the game, I could use a princess."

Kate still looked doubtful. "Are you sure?"

"Hey, bribery is always an option. We can stop by the Dog House on the way," Castle proposed. "Ian is a sucker for a twelve inch chili dog and curly fries. Whataya say, Kate, ready to become a royal?"

"Just so long as you don't make me wear a tiara," Kate agreed.

"Are you kidding?" Castle snorted. "My princess has a sword plus an assortment of knives hidden all over her body. A tiara would just get in the way."

Kate's mouth twitched upward. "Castle, I think I like her already."

* * *

Kate bent intensely over her controller as she battled her way through the minions of the East Mountain Goblin King. On the screen, yellow blood splattered on the brown rocky side of a mountain as the sword of Kate's avatar slashed through the oncoming hordes of the enemy. Forming a living bridge across a rushing river, Castle's avatar, long hair dripping from the spray, brought his army to fight at her side. On the right flank the First Knight of the Meer Soldiers led his warriors into battle, axes slashing. The Meer Soldiers cut a swath through the goblins, finally reaching the princess. Goblins were cleaved until the brown of the rocks could barely be seen. Swinging his Falching sword above his head, the Goblin King rushed at the princess. The ax of the First Knight cleaved his helmet and the sword of the Prince took his head. Castle and Ian let out simultaneous victory yells as the death of Goblin King showed on the readout in the corner of the screen. The rest of the goblins fell quickly, and the game flashed a conquest.

Kate put down her controller and leaned back against the couch, amazed that she was panting. Castle and Ian high fived and fed the birds. "You were terrific, Detective Beckett," Ian exclaimed. "Dad and I never took out all the goblins before."

I had a great time, Ian," Kate told him truthfully, "but I need to go. Baseball season starts next week. That's my thing with my Dad and I have some stuff I need to get before the opener."

"Call you tomorrow?" Castle asked as she donned her jacket at the door.

Kate stretched up to whisper in his ear. "Can't wait."


	19. Chapter 19

Ian

Chapter 19

Castle groaned as his phone buzzed early Sunday morning, but he immediately brightened when he saw the caller I.D.. "Hey, Kate, what's going on?"

"We have a case, Castle. I'm texting you the address," Kate reported, abruptly ending the call.

Castle was a little surprised that Kate had been so terse, but he figured he'd get the details of the case when he arrived. He checked on Ian, who was already up and at his drawing board, with a box of dry cereal on the table next to him. Ian waved him off when Castle inquired if his son needed anything before he left. "Just go, Dad. You shouldn't keep a lady waiting, especially not your sword swinging princess. But you might want to change out of your pajamas first," the teen added.

Castle laughed and left to shower and dress as quickly as he could.

* * *

An officer Castle had come to know as L.T. stood guard at the door of the Candela apartment. Castle was greeted by Captain Montgomery. "Someone important must have died to bring you out, Roy," Castle remarked.

"No one's died, Castle, at least we hope not. This is a kidnapping," Montgomery explained. "It's FBI jurisdiction, but the agent in charge requested Beckett for the task force. The N.Y.P.D. is here as support."

"Why Beckett?" Castle queried.

Montgomery hesitated a moment before he answered. "They have history. They worked another kidnapping together." Montgomery pointed. "I think they're having a pow wow in the kitchen, that way."

As he approached the kitchen. Castle could see Kate with a man sporting the square dark suit of an FBI agent and a square jaw to match. Kate turned as the writer came through the door. "Oh Castle, this is Special Agent Will Sorenson."

Castle regarded the other man warily. Sorenson had been standing too close to Kate to be just a colleague. Sorenson gazed appraisingly at Castle. "So you're Kate's writer shadow. Captain Montgomery filled me in," Sorenson informed him. "I have no problem with you being here, as long as you stay out of the way."

"Quiet as a mouse," Castle responded, wondering exactly what Will Sorenson meant by staying out of the way.

"I can fill you in, Castle," Kate offered. "The little boy who's been kidnapped is Angel Candela. He's two and a half. The parents are Theresa and Alfred Candela. Theresa is a Vice President at Palmer Stratton. Apparently she's the major breadwinner of the household. Alfred is a stay-at-home dad. He has a studio in the apartment, where he paints. He claims that's what he was doing when Angel was taken. Angel was watching _Sesame Street_ in the living room. According to Alfred, he had the door open between his studio and the living room, but he was listening to music and had no idea anything happened until he found Angel gone. Theresa says she worked late last night and was asleep."

"What the hell kind of parent leaves a two year old alone watching TV, when he can't even hear what's going on?" Castle demanded. "Little ones like that, they can climb on something, put something in their mouths. When Ian was that age I didn't even take a leak without taking him with me."

"This is you being quiet as a mouse, Castle?" Sorenson sniped.

Castle glared at him. "Do you have any kids?"

Sorenson's eyes flicked for a moment at Kate, before he shook his head.

"Then you can't understand," Castle asserted. "Alfred should have been paying attention, or Theresa should have gotten her ass out of bed."

"Castle," Kate soothed, "we're not here to give parenting classes. Our first priority is to get Angel back safely. After that, social services can sort it out."

Castle eased air back into his lungs. "So what have you got so far?"

"Will's people have set up a trap and trace in case there's a ransom call. Given Theresa's position, that seems the most likely motive for the kidnapping. There was an open window leading to an alley. It looks like Angel was taken out that way. CSU hasn't found any prints. Unis are canvassing the area to see if anyone saw anything, but the alley bends around the building and the window isn't visible from the street. We'll be checking all the traffic cams and whatever other video we can get in the area to see if anything shows up."

"Which means so far you have nothing," Castle concluded.

"Pretty much," Kate admitted. "But I'm going to talk to the Candelas again, see if they've come up with any ideas about who might be responsible for this. Can you keep your cool now if I let you sit in?"

"Yeah," Castle promised. "I can keep a lid on it. I was just taken by surprise, that's all."

* * *

Alfred and Theresa Candela sat at opposite ends on the couch, their anger scorching the air between them. Kate drew up a chair and Castle observed from another one, a few feet away. "Mr. and Mrs. Candela, now that you've had time to think about it, is there anyone you can think of who would take Angel?"

"No one," Theresa insisted.

"What are you talking about, Theresa?" Alfred protested. "I've been thinking about nothing else. How many people at Palmer Stratton have you pissed off?" Alfred turned to Kate. "A few months ago, Theresa decided she had to trim the 'dead wood' in her division. She fired half a dozen managers and all the employees who worked under them. They didn't even get severance. Some of those people were in a bad way. Theresa got phone calls, emails. There was this one guy, Dave Ellers, his wife left him and took his kids. He just called here a couple of weeks ago threatening to make Theresa suffer the way she made him suffer. Doesn't the phone company keep voice mails? Maybe you can get a recording of it."

"We'll look into all of those calls, Mr. Candela," Kate responded. "And Mrs. Candela, it would be helpful if you could provide us with a list of the employees who were let go."

Theresa shook her head. "Personnel records at Palmer Stratton are confidential. I wish to heaven I could release that information, but I don't have the authority. You'll have to get a court order."

"Then we will," Kate assured her. "can either of you think of anyone else?"

There was some homeless guy who tried to camp out in the alley a couple of times," Alfred recalled. "But our super ran him off."

"We already talked to your super, to check on the security in your building," Kate replied, "but we'll check with him again. Excuse me while I get all of this going."

Castle followed Kate back to the kitchen where she pulled her cell from her pocket. "You really think some homeless guy did this?" Castle questioned.

Kate chewed on her lip. "No. There's a restaurant that shares the alley. They have a dumpster there. It would be full of food. That was probably the attraction. But we'll check on it anyway. People tend to ignore the homeless, but they'd notice one with a toddler in tow. I think this Dave Ellers or one of the others that Theresa put out of a job would be a better bet. I can get Will to push through the court order. The FBI is good at that."

Castle quirked an eyebrow. "What else are they good at, Kate?"

"What do you mean, Castle?"

"I mean that Will Sorenson specifically requested you and it looked like you two have more than a case it common. Montgomery told me that you and Will have a history. What kind of history?"

Kate scrubbed a hand over her face and sighed. "About five years ago we dated for six months."

"What happened?" Castle asked.

"He got transferred to Boston. He wanted me to go with him. I wasn't ready to do that."

"Your mother's case?" Castle wondered.

Kate shook her head. "No, by that time I'd stopped pursuing that, but my dad is here. He was still pretty fragile then. I couldn't just up and go, especially since Will gets transferred on a regular basis. Boston wouldn't have been the end of it. It was like he wanted me to be some kind of groupie following the band. That wasn't me."

"But he's back here now and he wants to get back into your pants." Castle stated flatly.

Kate laid a hand on his arm. "Castle, except for the one very special exception standing in front of me, entry to my pants is strictly prohibited."


	20. Chapter 20

Ian

Chapter 20

All the detectives in the bullpen had been drafted to check the alibis of the employees of Palmer Stratton Theresa Candela had put out of work. While their co-workers slogged through the list, Kate and Castle were in interrogation interviewing Doug Ellers. The suspect's eyes had deep bags beneath them and the hair at his temples was white. The lines on his face had deepened beyond his forty years. Kate pushed a key on her laptop, and Ellers' furious words exploded into the room. "I've lost everything and I'm not the only one! What goes around comes around and It's all going to come back on you Theresa. You're going to hell!

"Not the most subtle message ever left, Doug," Castle pointed out.

"You lost your wife and your kids," Kate continued. "Now Theresa's son is missing. It doesn't take much to connect the dots."

"Except that you're connecting dots that aren't there," Doug argued. "Sure I was mad at Theresa Candela, beyond mad. But I didn't mean I was going to do anything to her. I just meant her sins were going to catch up with her. She sold her soul in the name of corporate greed and she will face final judgment."

"So you were saying that God is going to get her for that?" Castle questioned skeptically.

Doug Ellers nodded vigorously. "Exactly."

"So where were you early this morning?" Kate asked.

"Saint Patrick's Cathedral. I went to seven A.M. mass. I took the subway both ways. It will be recorded on my metro card. And it's one place I still have friends. They'll remember I was there. I can give you a list."

Kate passed a legal pad and a pen across the table. "You do that."

* * *

Kate slammed down the receiver of the land line at her desk in disgust, while Castle looked on in sympathy. "Ellers checks out. He couldn't have kidnapped Angel Candela."

Ryan reached Kate's desk, slightly out of breath. "The teams we set up downstairs to scrub the video from the area around the Candela's apartment came up with something. They sent it to the big screen in Tech." Kate followed Ryan, with Castle right behind her. It took a moment for Ryan to cue up the feed. "This is from a security camera from a cafe a block from the Candela's apartment. They just put it in, so someone who'd scoped out the neighborhood before the kidnapping might not have known it was there."

A man in a wool watch cap, ragged jeans, and worn peacoat was carrying a small child. The face of neither could be seen, but the child's clothes matched the description for those of Angel Candela. "Damn!" Kate swore, "I dismissed what Alfred Candela said about the homeless guy, especially after the super said he hadn't seen him in a while, but there he is, and he has Angel."

"Don't be too sure," Castle cautioned, "Ryan, run it back. There, see? Look at the shoes. He's dressed like a homeless man, but the shoes he's wearing are practically new, and I know that brand. They sell for two hundred dollars a pair. Kate, I think your homeless guy is a fake."

Ryan's brows rose at Castle's use of Beckett's first name. It was a new development. And the fact that the normally prickly detective didn't correct him was even more curious. But it was the wrong time to ask questions about what was essentially precinct gossip. "We're continuing to collect video in the direction the guy was going," he reported. "Maybe we'll get lucky and get a view good enough to run facial recognition."

Montgomery came to the doorway of Tech. "I just got a call. The Candelas received a ransom demand. The FBI is trying to trace it, but it came in on a burner. The kidnapper is asking for three million dollars and is supposed to call back tomorrow morning with instructions on how to make the drop.

* * *

Theresa Candela's eyes were dry, but her voice was rough and shaky as she talked to Kate in the living room of the Candela apartment. Castle and Sorenson stood nearby, listening. Alfred Candela was slumped in a chair. "Three million dollars is what I have in my 401k. It's mostly in Palmer Stratton shares, but we're working on an emergency cash out. Normally it would take thirty days, but I talked to our CEO, George Burnam. and he's agreed to sign off on it. Even then, it's going to be hard to get that much cash together. Banks are only required to have a three percent reserve. George has asked our CFO Parker Morse to coordinate. We should be able to have the money by noon tomorrow. I'm just hoping they don't want it before then."

"At least we know Angel's still alive," Sorenson put in. "There was a video sent to Alfred's phone, of Angel, with a ZNN newscast on a TV in the background. The news was current. We'll ask for another one before the Candela's agree to the terms of the drop."

"I don't think we should be making any demands," Alfred put in. "They could kill Angel any time, even after they send the video. I think we should just give them the money however they want."

"Easy for you to say, Alfred," Theresa retorted. "It's not like you earned any of it. You were supposed to be in charge of watching Angel while I earned it, and you couldn't even do that. Your opinion doesn't count for much."

Alfred's dark eyes flashed. "He's my son! He's always been my son! You know George Burnam and Parker Morse better than you know Angel."

"Just be glad I do," Theresa spat back. "Otherwise there would be no ransom money for your precious son, Alfred."

"I think we'd better give you two some privacy," Kate suggested, retreating toward the kitchen. Castle followed, while Sorenson went to confer with another FBI agent. Castle poured two mugs of coffee from a carafe and handed one to Kate. His hands encircled the warm ceramic, but he didn't sip. "Kate, there's something I wanted to ask you about. When I asked Sorenson if he had any kids, he looked at you. Why did he do that?"

Kate leaned against the counter, slowly releasing a breath. "For a little while, when I was with Will, we thought I was pregnant. I took a test from the drugstore and it came up positive. I think that might have been part of what sparked his fantasies about my following him to Boston and wherever else he went. But when I got in to see the doctor, she said I had symptoms that weren't consistent with early pregnancy. She did more tests. It turned out I had an infection that produced a false positive. I was relieved. If I ever do decide to have kids, a nomadic FBI agent would not be my idea of a perfect father. But Will was really disappointed. He loved the idea that I was pregnant. He'd made up this whole scenario in his head about our life together."

"Seems like that scenario might still be lurking in there," Castle commented.

"Well if it is, I feel sorry for him," Kate replied. "There's no way it's going to happen, at least not with me. But Will's a nice guy. He puts everything he has into getting people's kids back. I hope his life plan will work out, just with a different partner. But right now I'm much more concerned that things work out for Angel Candela."

Castle pulled Kate to him and kissed her hair. "Amen to that."


	21. Chapter 21

Ian

Chapter 21

Kate, Castle, and the FBI team gathered in the Candela apartment at the appointed time, to monitor the call from the kidnapper. The computer altered voice issued menacingly from the speaker of the FBI's equipment. "A civilian must deliver the money. If I see cops, Angel dies." The call ended abruptly, but Alfred Candela's phone dinged an alert for a text. The FBI tech instructed him to open the message.

"It's another video of Angel," Alfred announced, "and today's paper is there. He's okay!"

"Forward it to us the way you did the last one," Sorenson instructed. "I'll get ready to make the drop."

"No!" Alfred protested. "He said no cops! We're not risking Angel's life. He's my son. I'll make the drop."

"You can't," Sorenson argued. "You're emotionally involved. Your mind isn't clear. I've done this before. They'll never know."

"Yeah?" Alfred retorted. "What if they've been watching? What if they're still watching? You people drive up in your black SUVs. You park wherever you want. I'm an artist. I know what I see and you look like exactly what you are - a cop. I'll do it!"

"There's another way," Castle interjected. "I could make the drop. I'm not a cop, and I'm not as emotionally invested as Alfred is. It makes sense."

"It makes no sense," Sorenson contended. "We can't send some writer in when a boy's life is at stake."

"Will," Kate countered, "I've seen Castle under pressure. He can handle himself. He's saved my ass. He can do this. And Alfred's right. You scream Fed. Castle's a lot less threatening."

Sorenson closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I guess I'll just have to trust you on that, Kate. Okay, Castle makes the drop, but we'll be monitoring him all the way."

* * *

Even using hundred dollar bills, three million dollars weighed sixty pounds. Castle groaned and swung the type of pack the kidnapper had specified onto his back. "Wow, this reminds me of when Ian wanted to take all his art equipment on a camping trip. At least the streets of Manhattan are fairly even ground."

Sorenson handed Castle an earpiece. "This goes all the way in your ear. It shouldn't be visible from the outside. You'll be able to hear us and we'll be able to hear you."

"Castle," Kate added, "we'll need to hang back so we won't be spotted. Stay alert, but don't take any chances. We don't know who the kidnapper is or what he'll do."

"I'll be careful," Castle promised. "I have a son of my own to come back to, as well as other things to look forward to."

Kate blushed and Sorenson glared. "Just don't screw it up, writer boy," Sorenson warned.

Castle walked several blocks to a newspaper vending machine near a subway entrance and detached a cell phone from underneath. A text popped up on the screen. "Take the 3 train."

"They want me to take the Seventh Avenue Express," Castle whispered.

"Damn!" Sorenson exclaimed. "The signal won't penetrate from underground. Watch yourself, Castle. Talk to us as soon as you're clear."

"Roger that," Castle acknowledged as he descended the stairs. He swiped his metro card and walked to the platform. No train arrived for several minutes. When the train pulled in, it was uncrowded and he could have taken a seat, but he was too nervous to sit still and he didn't want to remove his backpack. He clung tightly to a vertical pole and wondered what would happen next. As the train approached the Times Square Station, the cell phone picked up a wi fi signal. A text instructed Castle to get off and go to Times Square. As soon as he was above ground, Castle reported his location and that another text had instructed him to put the phone in the backpack, leave it outside the Disney Store, and walk back toward the subway. Castle did as he was instructed, alerting Sorenson to the drop off. Castle put his own phone behind his back as he walked away, to try catch an image on video of whomever picked up the backpack. The square suddenly came alive with people dressed as Disney sea creatures. They converged on the Disney Store, blocking all view of the backpack, singing and dancing to "Under the Sea." When they dispersed at the end of the song, there was no sign of the backpack.

* * *

Kate balled her fists in frustration as she stared at the video screen in Tech. "I don't believe this! There are cameras everywhere in Times Square, but none of them got a view of who took that backpack. There weren't any witnesses either. They were all watching the performers. It was all organized as a flash mob. The notice went out on twitter from a spoofed account. The kidnapper was probably in costume, one of the bulkier ones that would hide the backpack. We don't have the phone he called you on, Castle. There's no way we can ID him."

"Maybe there is," Castle suggested. "The text I got telling me to get off at Times Square went through Boingo. It had to be set up in advance to do that. That text came in at exactly one fifteen. Can you check with Boingo and see what went through their network to that location at that time? Maybe you can trace the phone and trace the kidnapper."

Kate turned to face him."It's a long shot, but it's the only shot we have, unless the kidnapper returns Angel, and there's been no sign that's going to happen. This is the sort of thing the FBI should be able to expedite."

"Nice that they're good for something," Castle snarked. "Listen, while Sorenson is pushing paper, I'm going back to the loft. I have an irresistible urge to hug my son."

"Yeah, I think I understand, Castle. I'll call you if anything breaks," Kate promised.

* * *

"Dad," Ian called as his father came through the door, "I was just making a PB and J. You want one?"

Castle rushed to put his arms around his son, managing to get a smear of peanut butter on his sleeve of his shirt in the process. Ian handed him a napkin. "Dad, it's just a sandwich. What's going on?"

"It's just that you're here to make it." Castle explained.

"You didn't get the little boy back?" Ian guessed.

Castle leaned on the counter. "No we didn't."

"But Detective Beckett is still working on it, right?" Ian worried.

"She is," Castle confirmed. "I gave her a lead that might work out."

"Hey, Dad," Ian encouraged, "It'll work out. You and Detective Beckett are great together, like Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor."

"I hope so, but the kidnapper has always seemed to be one step a head of us, like he knows exactly what we're going to do."

"In your books that means there's a mole or an inside man," Ian offered.

"Yes it does!" Castle exclaimed. "It would take an inside man to know that Theresa Candela had three million in her 401k, too. And there's one man who's been steering us in the wrong direction all along. I need to get back to the precinct!"

"Um Dad," Ian offered. "I think you might want to get the rest of the peanut butter off your shirt first."

Castle grabbed a couple of paper towels and checked for the stain stick in his pocket. "I'll grab a cab and take care of it on the way."


	22. Chapter 22

Ian

Chapter 22

Castle charged off the elevator at the Twelfth, running toward Kate's desk. She rose to meet him. "I was just going to call you," she began. "I think there's got to be an inside man."

"Alfred Candela," they exclaimed simultaneously.

Kate's eyebrows rose. "Why do you think so?"

"He told us about the homeless guy who wasn't a homeless guy. Then he sent us after Doug Ellers and all the others from Theresa's office. He was keeping us busy. The kidnapper knew what was in Theresa's 401k. He'd have to have access to her records to know that. Alfred also insisted on making the drop. You?"

"I looked at his family," Kate replied. "He has two brothers. One, Jose, is an electronics expert. He could have set up the disguised voice and the phones. He would have known exactly where and when the one he gave you would pick up a signal. The other one, Marco, is an actor. He could have arranged the distraction in Times Square. He's also about the height and weight of the homeless guy who was carrying Angel and he would have been going in the direction the suspect was before we lost him on video. The brothers share a duplex in Queens. With any luck, that's where Angel is. Will is setting up a strike team now. You want to come along?"

"Try and stop me!" Castle responded. He and Kate got in the elevator together.

"Did you grab a quick snack, Castle?" Kate asked. "You smell like peanut butter. It's making me hungry."

Castle wiggled an eyebrow. "Maybe we can take care of that later."

* * *

Kate hopped out of the FBI surveillance van and joined Castle as he regarded the tiny backyard of the duplex through a borrowed pair of binoculars. "That play equipment looks brand new. I bet they got it just for Angel. He has to be inside."

"You're right, Castle. The FBI techs just got their heat sensing equipment online. There are three glowing blobs in there. Two big ones and a little one," Kate added.

"The brothers Candela and their nephew," Castle concluded.

Kate joined the FBI team that ringed the building and the force moved in. On Kate's strong urging, Castle stayed behind the heavily armed squad. The Candelas were gathered around a TV set watching cartoons on Boom. Astonished and terrified, Jose and Marco sank to their knees putting their hands behind their heads. Will Sorenson scooped up Angel, who immediately began to scream. "Here, let me," Castle offered, opening his arms to receive the distressed toddler. When Will hesitantly handed Angel to Castle, the boy burrowed into the broad chest, his sobs fading to an occasional hiccup. Make sure to check their car," Castle instructed Sorenson. "With any luck there should be a baby seat in there. We can grab it to get Angel back to his mother."

Sorenson and Kate strode into the Candela's apartment, with Castle bringing up the rear, carrying Angel. "You found him!" Theresa exclaimed, while Alfred stared stonily at her and then at Sorenson. "Alfred, what's the matter? Our boy is back!"

"Go ahead and keep pretending, Theresa," Alfred snapped. "It's not as if you ever really wanted him. We both know he was an accident and you've spent as many hours away from Angel and from me as you could."

"I was working to support us while you threw paint at canvas and pretended it was art, Alfred," Theresa retorted.

"That is total crap," Alfred insisted. "You didn't need to store up three million dollars Theresa. You could have spent some time with your family. You have no idea what Angel and I do with his mornings. I could have said anything about the kidnapping and you wouldn't have known the difference. With your three million dollars I could have given him a great childhood, been with him every day. You can always make more money. It's what you love to do."

"Mr. Candela," Sorenson ordered, "turn around." Sorenson snapped handcuffs on the defiant father's wrists. "Alfred Candela, you are under arrest for kidnapping and extortion." Sorenson recited Candela's rights and Alfred was led away.

"What the hell am I supposed to do now?" Theresa wailed. "I need to go to work tomorrow to catch up with everything I missed because of Alfred, and now there's no one to take care of Angel."

"Palmer Stratton will just have to wait until you figure it out." Castle responded, anger roughening his voice. "Who knows? You might even enjoy getting to know your son."

* * *

"Ian's at the theater with my mother tonight. She got a bit part in Spiderman and Ian is over the moon to get backstage access. You want to join me at my loft?" Castle asked as Kate drove away from the Candela's apartment. "We could split a bottle of wine, or maybe share something stronger. I could really use a drink."

"Castle this case really was a win," Kate asserted. "Not only did we catch the kidnapper but Angel is fine. I wish all of them came out this well."

"I wouldn't say Angel is fine," Castle responded. "The parent who cares the most about him most likely won't be out of jail until Angel is grown up and Theresa will probably stick him with a nanny and go back to spending all her time at the office. That's no way to raise a child. Believe me I know. My mother was on the road all the time. It's not that she doesn't love me, she does. It's just that she only really feels alive when she has an adoring audience. Still, I'm sure she did a much better job than Theresa will. Theresa just sees Angel as a lead weight as she scales the money mountain. I can't imagine how many hours of therapy it will take to overcome an upbringing like that. Seems like your cases reveal a never ending stream of shitty parents."

"Cops see the underbelly of life, Castle. It's the nature of the job. Considering how many books you've written about crime, you have to get that by now."

Castle sighed. "Oh I get it. That doesn't mean I have to like it. Derrick Storm, in his own way, whether it's supporting an orphanage or keeping terrorists from building bombs, makes the world at least a slightly better place. I would hope the cases I work on with you would do the same."

"They do, Castle. We bring people peace by seeing criminals brought to justice. Perhaps not with the Candelas, but even this case may work out better than you think. Since Theresa Candela will be suspected of neglect, Angel will have people watching out for him. If he starts going down the drain, someone will be there to plug the hole. He stands a good chance of getting whatever help he needs." Kate put a hand on Castle's arm. "Just hang on to that."

Castle reached over to caress her cheek. "I think I'd rather hang onto you, Kate. And you never did answer my question. Want help me drown my sorrows tonight? I'll throw in dinner. I make a killer pasta Carbonara. Or we could skip that and just binge on ice cream."

Okay, Castle," Kate agreed, stroking his thigh, "but I have something much hotter in mind for dessert than ice cream."

"Detective Beckett," Castle assured her, "you are free to modify my menu anytime."


	23. Chapter 23

Ian

Chapter 23

While they attempted a carefully planned do-over at Le Coq, Castle watched Kate unconsciously fingering the ring around her neck as she studied the menu. "We both know I'm happily obsessed with my son, but with the Candela case, maybe we've been talking about parenting too much lately. Are you thinking about your mother?" he wondered.

"I am," Kate admitted. "You know she was really busy, a civil rights attorney. I mean my father is a lawyer too, but he does a lot of class action things. He doesn't get personal with clients. My mother though, she immersed herself in a case. Every fight was as if she was going to battle for her lover or her best friend. She'd use every trick in the book and when she ran out, she'd write a new book. But with all of that, I always knew she cared about me, just like I can see the way you care about Ian. She took off time from work to feed me ice cream when I had my tonsils out. We went skating at Rockefeller Center. We'd go window shopping together. She loved coats. I think I got that from her."

"I've noticed. I think my mother is jealous of that red wrap coat she saw you wearing when she dropped in at my loft the other night as you were leaving. She said she could never wear anything like it because it would clash with her hair. And it looks like a love of coats isn't all you inherited from your mother. You have her love of justice too. But you never did get justice for her. Do you ever think about going back and trying to solve her case?"

"Oh Castle, for my first three years on the force, that was all I thought about. I used every spare moment to go over every detail. I wasn't eating. I wasn't sleeping. But it was all dead ends. There just wasn't anything there to investigate. Even so, it took me a year of therapy to move on."

"But you haven't moved on," Castle pointed out, "or you wouldn't be playing with that ring. Kate, when you gave up on your mother's case, it was a long time ago. Forensics have moved ahead. Records have been digitized. And back then you didn't have me. I have resources Kate. We could work on it together."

Kate sipped at her wine, then chewed the earthy tang from her bottom lip. "I don't know, Castle. What if we fail?"

Castle reached for her hand. "If we do, then you'll know that we've done everything we could to get justice for your mother. Then maybe you really can put her murder behind you."

"Castle, assuming we do look at the case again, where would we start?" Kate queried.

Castle leaned forward, enthusiasm lighting his face. "Where the most progress has been made, forensics. Do you know Doctor Clark Murray?"

"Only by reputation. He's supposed to be the best in the city, possibly the country. Lanie consults with him sometimes when she's stuck on a detail of an autopsy."

"Yeah, well I've consulted with him too. He's helped me get the gruesome details right for four of my books. We could give your mother's file to him and see if he notices anything the original medical examiner missed," Castle suggested.

Kate pushed her hair from her face as she tried to keep from hyperventilating. "And what if he doesn't find anything, Castle?"

Castle took Kate's hand in both of his, making gentle circles with his thumb. "Then you'll know there's nothing to find."

"Alright Castle, I suppose it's worth a shot." Kate agreed.

"Good," Castle declared, "Now we can talk about other burning matters, like the steak Diane the waiter is about to ignite for us."

"Sounds good," Kate smiled.

"It will be more than good," Castle assured her.

* * *

Hunching over his desk, Castle winced as he crafted a scene in which the toe of Nikki Heat's boot made painful contact with Jameson Rook's jawbone. "Of course she'll have to render aid and comfort," Castle comforted himself as "Doctor, doctor, give me the news," emanated from his cell phone. He didn't need to see an ID to know it was Clark Murray, or as he often referred to him, "Doctor Death." "Castle," Murray began, "I think you may have stumbled into something much bigger than one murder. When would you be free to get together?"

"Look, Clark, if you really have something, I need to get Kate Beckett involved. She's a homicide detective and also the daughter of the victim. I'll be at the Twelfth Precinct with her tomorrow. Can we meet there? I'll check with Kate about times and get back to you."

"Considering the breadth of what I found, that's probably appropriate Rick," Clark responded. "Call me when you can set something up."

* * *

Kate nervously popped M &Ms® into her mouth while she, Castle, and Lanie waited in the conference room at the Twelfth for Doctor Murray to arrive. She'd asked Lanie to be her extra pair of eyes and ears in case Murray said something she was too wound up to pick up on. Her friend had readily agreed, but not without grilling Kate about Castle. If Kate Beckett ever let her walls down enough to fall for someone, Lanie had expected it to be one of the cops Kate had relationships with over the years, not a writer. Kate had sworn Lanie to secrecy about Castle and so far Lanie had kept her word, but she had a feeling the relationship would be pretty clear to anyone around Kate and Castle for very long anyway. The attraction was obvious, but it was more than that. As rattled as Kate was at that moment, she seemed to draw strength every time she glanced at the man next to her. That was something Lanie had never seen from Kate before. She'd rarely seen it from anyone.

Murray came in, spreading copies of reports and a white triangular object across the table. He plunked down into a chair. Castle introduced him to Kate, and Murray nodded a greeting at Lanie. "Sorry I'm late. I was doing trial prep and the prosecutor was clueless. It looks like he wasn't the only one in that category. One shouldn't speak ill of the dead, and the M.E. who originally handled Johanna Beckett's case has passed on, but he really missed the boat. Now I've found multiple cases where the victims were killed by a method essentially identical to the way your mother was, Detective. And these were no random muggings. They were just made to look that way. Those people all died from the first stab of knife in the kidney. The method is taught in the military and it requires strength and skill to master. Other stab wounds were added in all cases to disguise the prowess of the assassin." Murray picked up the triangular object. Now this is a model of the knife used on all the victims. I generated it with tomographic imaging and made it on a 3-D printer. It is a military knife, not usually the choice for your average mugger."

Kate picked up a file from the table and stared at the picture inside. "I met this guy. He was a law student who was interning with my mother." She picked up another one. "This is a records clerk. She probably knew my mother too." Kate examined three more files, all connected to Johanna Beckett in some way. "Oh my God, all these people must have been killed because of something my mother was working on. They couldn't all have gone unnoticed. This wasn't just a matter of missing something. Something was covered up. Whoever did it must be behind my mother's murder and all of these others as well. I need to find him."

"You will, Kate," Castle assured her, "you will."


	24. Chapter 24

Ian

Chapter 24

Ryan came to the door of the conference room, holding a sticky note with an address. "Beckett, we've got a body."

"I'm going back to the morgue to pick up the M.E. van," Lanie told Kate. "I'll meet you at the scene."

Castle hurriedly extended a hand to Clark Murray. "Thanks Doc. Send me your bill."

"This one's on the city's tab, Castle," Murray declared. "It should have been caught in the first place, so I'm definitely on their dime. Detective Beckett, let me know if you need anything else."

Kate extended her own hand. "Thank you Doctor. I appreciate it."

* * *

Lanie examined the body, dread rising in her throat. It was frighteningly reminiscent of the gruesome pictures she had just seen in Clark Murray's files. The body facing her from the driver's seat of the car had stab wounds identical to those in the photos. She would have to move it to check for the killing wound to the kidney, but she was pretty sure what she would find. It was bad enough for Kate to discuss her mother's murderer in theory, but to have that killer involved in one of Kate's cases would be brutal. Lanie shrank from the thought of breaking the news to her friend, but she was glad Kate would have Castle at her side when the shock hit.

Kate approached the car where Lanie was at work. "Do we have an ID?"

"I can answer that," Esposito answered. "Car is registered to a Doctor Joshua Leeds. His face matches his DMV photo."

"I did a quick google," Ryan added. "He's a plastic surgeon, upscale. He has an office on Park Avenue."

"Then I guess that's our next stop or..." Kate regarded the strangled look on Lanie's face. "Lanie is there something else I should know?"

"Kate," Lanie responded as calmly as she could, "as far as I can tell, the body's been here a while, but I'll need to get it back to the lab to give you time of death. And I need to do a more complete examination before I can tell you anything else."

Kate stared at her friend, puzzled. "Not telling me anything until you get him back to the lab. Lanie, you're starting to sound like Perlmutter."

"Well unpleasant as he is, sometimes Perlmutter is right," Lanie rejoined. "You go do your detective thing and I'll call you."

Kate's brow furrowed in doubt. "Alright. Talk to you later."

"What was that about?" Castle asked, as he and Kate walked to her unit.

Kate shook her head. "I don't know, Castle, but Lanie's holding back something."

* * *

Joshua Leeds' office was not as posh as Castle would have expected from a facial sculptor to New York City's upper crust. The chairs looked comfortable and the magazines were actually from the right decade, but there was no ostentatious display of prestige. The receptionist was on the phone, a harried look on her face. "I'm sorry, we'll have to reschedule. Doctor Leeds has had an emergency and we're not sure yet when he'll be available. Yes, I'll call you as soon as I have a slot." She looked up. "I'm sorry Doctor Leeds isn't here and I'm not sure when to expect him."

Beckett held up her badge. "Detective Kate Beckett. This is Mr. Castle. I'm sorry, but Doctor Leeds won't be coming. He's been killed." Kate looked at the woman's name tag. "Ms. Morantz, his body was just discovered. We have no contact information other than this office. Is their someone we should call?"

Courtney Morantz drew a calming breath. "Doctor Leeds has no family, but oh my God Julia, his fiance, Julia Hammond. They were supposed to be married in two months. Doctor Leeds was spending all his free time helping her plan the wedding." Courtney touched a few keys on her computer and a printer activated. She handed Beckett a sheet of paper. "This is her number and her address."

"Thank you. Could you call in any other staff who are here, please," Kate requested. "We need to talk to all of you." Kate soberly broke the news as two nurses and an assistant, all in scrubs, clustered around the front desk. "Nurse Goldberg, Nurse Dowd, Mr. Guerrera, is there anyone you can think of that might have a grudge against Doctor Leeds?"

The staff all vehemently shook their heads. "Everyone loved Joshua, Jacey Goldberg exclaimed. "He's never even had a lawsuit against him. That's rare for any doctor, especially a plastic surgeon. He was the best in the city, one of the best in the country."

"I can't imagine why anyone would want to hurt him," Maggie Dowd added.

"Has he done anything out of the ordinary lately?" Castle queried.

Jacey pressed her lips together in thought. "Well he did give us all a day off in the middle of the week about a month and a half ago. That's never happened before. Usually we're too swamped for extra down time. Joshua just said he had something to take care of. I thought it might have something to do with his wedding."

"It didn't," Courtney put in. "I asked Julia about it in case she needed help with anything, and she said he just told her he'd be out of touch for a day. She thought maybe he had a seminar on some new equipment or something. He always keeps - kept - up on the latest techniques. But if he did, he never mentioned it to me, and I keep his calendar. Maybe Doctor Leeds was working on some kind of wedding surprise for her." Tears began to leak from Courtney's eyes and she grabbed a tissue from a box on her desk. "Oh God, now there won't be any wedding."

* * *

"Kate, are you all right?" Castle asked as Kate drove to the address Courtney had given her for Julia Hammond. "To hear what Murray said about your mother and now to have to go tell someone her fiance is dead, that's a pretty rough day. You could stop and take a breath for a minute."

"Castle, the last thing I want to do right now is to stop and take a breath. I just want to get through this. But I could drop you at the loft. Isn't Ian due home pretty soon?"

"No, he has an animation class," Castle explained. "He'll make it home for a late dinner, if he's not too excited to eat one. Usually after that class he wants to go straight to his computer or his drawing board. I just bring food he can grab, a sandwich or pizza rolls or something, up to his room."

"Well in that case, we should be done in plenty of time. Castle, I'm really glad you're with me for this. It's never easy, but Julia must be full of dreams of a future with Joshua Leeds. In one terrible moment those dreams will be gone forever, and I'm the one who's going to take them away."

"Hey, Kate, listen to me," Castle urged. "You are not the one who is taking away her dreams. That was done by whomever killed Joshua Leeds. You're the person who will bring his murderer to justice."

"Like I brought my mother's killer to justice, Castle?" Kate snapped.

"Kate," Castle assured her, "If anyone can do both, it's you. And I may be able to lend a hand too."

Kate put a hand on his thigh, absorbing his warmth through her fingers. "Believe me, Castle, you have no idea how much you already are."


	25. Chapter 25

Ian

Chapter 25

Kate and Castle left a weeping Julia Hammond in the care of her hastily arrived mother. As they descended the stairs of the brownstone where Julia occupied an apartment, Kate's phone buzzed with a text from Lanie, instructing them to come to the morgue. "Strange," Kate commented. "Lanie doesn't usually mention bringing you. She just assumes I'll have you in tow. Well at least she's finally willing to tell us something."

Castle hesitated for a moment. "Yeah, that's good."

A sheet covered the body of Joshua Leeds but Lanie's tablet held photos of what was underneath. Castle winced at the first image. "Lanie are those burns on his - ooh!" Castle involuntarily covered himself.

"They are, Castle," Lanie confirmed. "He was tortured. "This wasn't just a murder. Leeds must have had something the killer wanted to know. But there's something worse."

"Worse than that? "Castle shuddered.

"Look, I needed to get exact measurements of the wounds and reproduce the dimensions of the knife to be sure, but there's no doubt. Kate, Joshua Leeds was killed by the same person who killed your mother and all the other victims Clark Murray brought to us. Whoever it is, he's still out there plying his trade." Lanie reached out to put a hand on Kate's arm. "I'm sorry, honey."

Castle put an arm around Kate, drawing her against him, but she pulled herself stiffly straight. "Lanie, there is nothing to be sorry for. This is a new trail, a new set of clues. The killer is out on the street for us to find. We'll start by running a check on Joshua Leeds. He must have been into something his staff and fiancée had no idea about. We'll figure out what the killer wanted."

* * *

Kate bent over the screen of the computer on her desk at the Twelfth. "Fucking Feds!"

"What's wrong?" Castle asked from his accustomed chair.

Access to records on Joshua Leeds have been blocked. Inquires are directed toward the public information officer at the FBI. That's a brush off. Those guys don't know anything. They just smile while they tell you most politely to shove it. Well this isn't the only way to go at it. We'll tear apart his office, his home, whatever we need to. We're going to figure this out!" Kate declared.

"We will Kate," Castle agreed gently, "but tomorrow. It's seven o'clock. The office will be closed. You need to get a team together to go through everything anyway. That will take time. Look, Ian will be home in half an hour and I'm going back to the loft. Come with me. Decompress. Have a glass of wine; scarf down some shockingly unhealthy snacks. Then in the morning you can do a full court press. We already know a lot. You're not going to turn up anything else tonight. Please Kate. Indulge me."

* * *

Castle slid a plate of chicken nuggets and french fries onto the table next to Ian's drawing board. He added a mug of root beer and a pile of napkins. "Thanks, Dad," Ian said, finishing a detail on the figure he was drawing. Ian reached for a fry as his father turned to leave. "Dad, is Detective Beckett okay?"

"She's had a rough day," Castle answered. "She found out some disturbing news that involved the death of someone she loved and it turned out to tie in to the case we picked up today. She also had to tell someone her fiancé had been murdered. Beckett will be fine though. Tomorrow she's going to wade back into the fray like the sword swinging princess she is."

"And you're going to wade into it with her?" Ian asked.

"I am," Castle confirmed.

"That's good," Ian decided. "Is she going to stay with you tonight?"

"What? Except for when I was married to Gina, when can you remember me having a woman stay overnight while you were here?"

"Never," Ian admitted. "But Dad, I'm not a kid anymore. I know it's not just birds and bees who do it and I've never seen you look at anyone the way you look at Detective Beckett, not even Gina, when you two still liked each other."

"Yeah," Castle recalled, "you were way too young when your mother died to remember how I looked at her. It was like she brought the sun with her when she entered a room. Most of the time I couldn't help smiling. You remind me of her that way. With Kate, it's something different. Sometimes she makes me happy, sometimes she makes me furious, but I can't look at her without feeling something. When your mother died, it was like I lost huge pieces of myself. There's something about Kate that is starting to fill some of that emptiness."

"Oh God, Dad, if you wrote something like that in one of your books, your readers would barf. But I get it, I think. And if you want her here, it won't bother me - as long as I don't actually have to think about what you're doing. That would be gross."

Castle grinned. "I know. That's how I used to feel about your Gram and her husbands and assorted other paramours. I don't know if Kate will stay tonight. I don't know if she'll want to. But I appreciate what you said, and if she is here, I'll make sure we don't do anything too nauseating in front of you."

Castle returned to the couch in front of the fireplace. Kate had pulled a throw around her and was sipping red wine. "How's Ian?"

"Way more observant than any fifteen year old has a right to be," Castle answered. "But I think he's set for fuel while he unleashes his creative storm. What would you like besides the wine? I can come up with something a little more sophisticated than processed chicken parts. We could go French. Fruit, cheese, and crackers? Nibble and cuddle?"

Kate brushed the tips of her fingers over his prominent cheekbone. "That sounds nice, Castle."

Except for a knife, tiny smears of brie, and a few grape stems, the plate on the coffee table was bare. The wine glasses next to it were empty. Resting her head against Castle's chest, Kate's eyes drifted closed.

* * *

Kate awoke, still on the couch with the throw tucked around her and another blanket on top of it. The aroma of brewing coffee drew her from her nest to the nearby kitchen. Castle looked up from beating eggs in a bowl. "Good morning."

"Good morning," Kate returned. "I can't believe I fell asleep like that. Why didn't you wake me?"

"You needed it. You have a busy day coming, kicking ass and taking names. I don't have time to do pancakes. Ian should be right down. He has a review session before first period. Scrambled eggs or an omelet?"

"Castle, you don't have to...," Kate protested.

"Kate, I'm making breakfast anyway, and by the way, Ian knows you were on the couch last night. He came down earlier to borrow a razor blade. Not that I'm going to want it back. If you were thinking you need to sneak out, it would be a wasted effort. So scrambled or omelet?" Castle repeated.

"Scrambled is fine," Kate replied. "Ian didn't have a problem with my being here?"

"Other than thinking warrior princesses shouldn't have to sleep on couches, no."

Ian bounced down the stairs. "Hey, Detective Beckett. I based a character on you. She took out three Grebellions with one slash of her sword. Very rad. I don't think I got the jawline quite right though. If you have some time when you and Dad have a break in your case, I'd like to sketch you from life - if you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all, Ian," Kate assured him. "I posed for some of my friends who were art students when I was in college. And I'd be honored to slay Grebellions for you."

"Super!" Ian beamed.

"Eggs are ready," Castle announced. "Kate I hope you don't mind the chipolte sauce. This early, Ian and I need the jolt."

"Don't worry Castle," Kate responded, the corners of her mouth twitching, "I love morning heat."


	26. Chapter 26

Ian

Chapter 26

Castle had settled into his chair and Kate had just shoved her bag into a drawer in her desk at the Twelfth, when Will Sorenson emerged from the elevator. He ignored Castle's black look. "Kate, your inquiry into Joshua Leeds was flagged. Since we've worked together, I was tagged to come and talk to you about it. You need to drop the Joshua Leeds investigation."

Color rose in Kate's face and her eyes flashed with anger. "Will, I'm not dropping anything! Leeds' death was a murder that occurred in my jurisdiction and I'm going to solve it. The FBI has no right to tell me otherwise."

"Kate, there's more to this than you know," Will implored. "It has to do with the protection of a federal witness. I'm asking you as a friend and a colleague to back off."

"Will, there's more to this than you know too. Leeds was murdered by the same filth that killed my mother. There is absolutely no way I'm letting that go!" Kate maintained.

Sorenson put up a hand. "Kate, what? I thought your mother was a random mugging."

"Kate," Castle urged, "I think you and your ex-squeeze here need a serious exchange of information."

"Then he goes first," Kate insisted.

"Fine," Sorenson agreed. "Joshua Leeds was hired to change the appearance of a witness against a local drug ring."

"That makes sense," Castle mused. "We've found out that Kate's mother's death was a hit and that a number of others connected to her in some way were taken out by the same killer. He must have been hired to obtain the identity of your witness and then take Leeds out. Leeds was tortured before he died."

"Drugs would figure into it too," Kate added. "Before my mother was killed, she was involved in a campaign to get the drugs out of a neighborhood in Washington Heights. She was researching who was behind the operation. She must have gotten too close. We need to talk to your witness. He is the connection to whomever contracted the hits and whoever is behind Leeds' and my mother's murder."

"We? You mean you and writer boy?" Will scoffed.

Castle stood up and stared down at Will Sorenson. "That is exactly what she means. It's not as if you were ever able to help her with her mother's case, FBI boy. That took someone with a little imagination. Why don't you do what you do best and flex your bureaucratic muscles to get us in to see your witness."

"Okay guys," Kate interjected, "before you both start unbuckling your belts to compare, let's just agree that we'll have to work together to solve this case. Will, let me know when you can set up a meet with your witness. Then I'll send you whatever we've got."

"I'll call you, Kate," Will conceded, still under Castle's blistering gaze, and strode toward the elevator.

Kate watched the doors close on the agent. "Castle, I think we should both take a breath. And", she added, a grin overpowering the frown that had creased her face, "if you guys had pulled out a tape measure, the FBI definitely would have fallen short."

Castle returned a rueful smile. "I really hate thinking about why you know how mini-feebie compares, but thank you for that. So are you still going ahead with your plans to delve into every iota of Leeds' existence?"

"There may be some other avenue to Will's witness somewhere in Leeds' home or office, but there's no need to expend that kind of manpower if we don't have to. I'll give Will the day. I think he'll get us an in. He doesn't want to look any smaller in front of you than he already does," she quipped. "I need to get my paperwork up to date anyway."

"Ooh, paperwork, I actually have too much of my own I've put off," Castle admitted. "So that is my cue to exit, stage left. But call me the minute you hear anything."

Kate suppressed a giggle. "Alright Snagglepuss, talk to you later."

* * *

"Really?" Castle exclaimed as Kate pulled into an underground structure. "A parking garage and black SUVs, the FBI really has run out of imagination."

Will Sorenson emerged from one of the official vehicles, as Kate and Castle debarked from her unit. "You and writer monkey have five minutes," he told Kate, "and I had to call in about five years worth of favors to get you that."

Kate put a hand on Castle's arm as he was about to retort. "Forget it, Castle," she whispered, "he's trying to fight a losing battle. Let's just get this done."

The face of the figure in the back seat of the FBI vehicle was heavily bandaged, but enough skin showed to reveal that he was African-American. "Well you are the best looking cop I've seen in a long time," he told Kate in a voice that was startlingly deep. "And what is it you want from me?"

"The name of your ex-boss, the one who ordered the hit on the doctor who was hired to rearrange your face," Kate replied.

The mystery witness stiffened in surprise. "Wait! Dr. Leeds is dead? Shit, that sonofabitch could be coming after me next. I need to get out of here."

"Not until you tell me who the sonofabitch is," Kate demanded. "I get him off the street, you'll be safer too."

"You'll never get to him," Deep Voice insisted. "He has too much juice, too much power. But you may be able to get his hitter. The guy goes by Rathborne."

"How do I find him?" Kate pressed.

"It's all online. You post a message on his site, the IP address is strange, so it stuck in my head. It's 256 dot 256 dot 256 dot 256. If you get lucky you may get an answer," the bandaged man offered. "That's all I'll tell you. Now get the FBI guy back in here."

Kate shook her head as she drove away from the frustrating meeting. "Just an IP address," she fumed, "that makes it untraceable, pure dark web."

"Hey, I researched this sort of thing for one of my Derrick Storm books. Black Pawn wouldn't let me put it in. My publisher slash ex-wife, Gina, claimed there might be too much liability attached if someone actually took out a hit. I was going to write about a hit guy, actually a hit gal, with a site like that. People requested a contract, then she provided the routing and account number for her private stash in the Caymens. Half payment before the hit, half payment after. Going by what I learned, we can set up a dummy hit and catch our killer in the act," Castle proposed. "Then you, in all your mistress of interrogation glory, can sweat him for the name of the real boss."

"There's just one problem, Castle," Kate pointed out, "the N.Y.P.D. Is never going to put up the money for a hit, dummy or otherwise."

"They won't have to. I'll do it," Castle offered.

"I can't ask you to do that, Castle," Kate protested.

"Kate, you aren't asking," Castle returned, "I'm volunteering. I want to get this guy. And I can write it off - if can I slip it past Gina into my next book. So let's do it!"

A/N The IP address I listed is much like the 555 telephone numbers they use on TV, guaranteed phony. IP address segments don't exceed 255. So if you had plans to contract a hit, sorry. Thanks to my computer security expert hubby for the assist on this. And you guys all know who the deep voiced figure in the bandages is, right? No, not Michael Dorn. Try again. Hint: Mr. Spock's home planet. And for those who aren't familiar with the cartoon character, Snagglepuss, "Exit stage left," was one of his signature lines.


	27. Chapter 27

Ian

Chapter 27

Castle handed Kate a steaming cup of dark brew as she stared glumly at the monitor on her computer. "You know, he's never going to answer if you keep staring at it," he asserted. "Anyway while you're waiting for a response from Rathborne, another idea just invaded my brain."

Kate's eyebrows rose. "While you were making espresso, Castle?"

"I do some of my best work operating a steamer," Castle proclaimed.

Kate choked, tiny brown drops landing on the papers on her desk. She put her cup down to avoid further damage and swabbed at her documents with a tissue. "I won't argue with you on that one, Castle. So what was this flash of brilliance?"

"How did our drug lord know about Leeds?" Castle mused. "The whole thing was a hush hush operation. There must have been a mole somewhere in the group in charge of the safekeeping of Bandage Man. We find the mole, he could lead us to whomever called in the hit."

"Castle, even assuming that's true, how would we find a mole in the FBI?"

"We could do what you were planning to do before Sorenson barged in. Go through everything in Leeds' office and his home. Look for contacts. Maybe the person who made the arrangements to use Leeds is our mole."

Kate's jaw firmed as she shook her head. "Castle that is really a reach."

"It might be, Kate," Castle admitted, "but it's got to be better than sitting here waiting for something to pop up on your screen. Any message you get would come to your phone anyway, wouldn't it? You won't miss anything."

"That's true, Castle," Kate confirmed. "I'll call out the troops."

* * *

"Beckett, Leeds has a locked drawer in his desk," Ryan called as Kate and Castle were searching through printouts of Leeds' receivables."

"Hey, I've got this one!" Castle claimed. "I studied with one of the best thieves in the business for one of my books. I can pick it."

Castle pulled a small leather case out of his pocket and selected a pick. Kate looked at him in confusion. "Castle, why are you carrying lock picks? Do you have a career as a second story man, that isn't in your file?"

"Just a career as a father," Castle assured her. "When Ian was little he was always accidentally locking the bathroom door. The doorknob is the kind that has a little hole but doesn't take a key. One of those tiny screwdrivers they use to tighten glasses would work, but a set of lock picks is way cooler. I got in the habit of carrying them. Ian still slips occasionally. I've also lost the keys to my file cabinet a few times. These come in handy."

Castle bent over the lock on the drawer in question and quickly released it. Ryan began to examine the contents. "Checkbook. There's an entry in deposits, just labeled 'AG.' Could that be the Attorney General's office?"

"Contact the bank and trace that," Kate instructed. "Anything else interesting?"

"Oh," Ryan sighed, "wedding plans. That's sad. Wait, Beckett, there's one other file here, it's an outline for what looks like a facial reconstruction. It's labeled patient 'X.' And there's an email in here designating time and place. It's from a 'gov' domain."

Kate slammed down the papers she was examining and slapped her hands together. "That's it! We need to find out who sent that email. That was Leeds' contact."

"You think the Feebies are going to release the emails of their people?" Esposito questioned as he worked his way through Leeds' phone records.

"No but we can ask about a particular one," Kate replied. "Ryan, let me see that email," she requested, pulling out her cell phone."

Air hissed through Castle's lips. "Calling FBI boy?"

Kate nodded as she heard a voice answering. Castle didn't need to hear the other side of the conversation to know that Kate was unhappy with Will Sorenson's response. "Old squeeze not coming through, huh?"

Kate rolled her eyes in disgust. "He said that's an internal email address and he could get fired for identifying the owner. He sounded a little scared. I think whoever it is must be pretty high up."

"We could have Tech try to hack it," Esposito suggested.

"No, if Yoshi tries to breach the FBI, Montgomery could fire him - or worse. It would be a violation of all kinds of anti-terrorism laws. We could all be up on charges," Kate cautioned.

"How about a private hacker?" Castle suggested. "I know a guy who..." An alert sounded from Kate's phone. She quickly scanned her screen. "Castle, we have a bite! It's from the hit man! Oh wow, he wants fifty-thousand up front."

"Yeah, well that jibes with what Mummy Man told us," Castle noted. "I can do that."

Esposito and Ryan looked at each other as Kate crossed the room and touched Castle's face. "Rick, are you sure? There's a good chance you'll never see that money again."

Ryan's eyebrows flew upward as Castle cupped her cheek. "Kate, I told you I want this as much as you do. And it's a small price for nailing your mother's killer. You set up our faux target, I'll take care of the money."

* * *

Castle let himself into the loft and dropped his coat on the chair next to the door. He rotated his shoulders trying to work the stiffness out. His bank manager had tried his best to be polite and accommodating, but setting up a transfer to an unknown person holding an offshore account, raised flags. There was no law against it. There was, however, paperwork to be filled out to assure that Castle had no intention of funding terrorists or hiding money from the IRS. It all had to be sworn to and notarized. Then the transfer to the covert hit man was set up so that Castle could just hit a button on his phone when Kate's trap was set. At least the rest rooms at the bank were nice. By the time Castle finished, he had needed one, if just to splash some water on his face.

The smell of Hot Pockets® hung in the air. Clearly Ian was home. When Ian was young, Castle had read all the parenting books and tried his best to guide his son toward fruits and vegetables as snacks. To say the books had been optimistic would have been a vast understatement. The best Castle could manage, was to provide after school repasts that provided some protein and were relatively low in sugar and grease. Still it was better than what Castle used to sneak when he was a teenager and his mother was practically living at the theater. Working his shoulders back and forth one more time, Castle started up the steps to greet his son.

Ian wore a pair of earphones and was scanning the pages of his textbook to convert the text to audio. His eyes closed after scanning each page, concentrating on absorbing the words that flowed from his ears to his brain. As he started a new page, he spotted his father leaning against the door frame, and lowered his earphones to rest around his neck.

"I didn't mean to interrupt you," Castle apologized. "What are you working on?

"English. Similes and metaphors. Actually, I wanted to ask you about them. You don't use a lot of them in your writing, do you Dad?"

"I don't," Castle confirmed. "They would be appropriate if I wanted to write something lyrical, but for a hard hitting hero, not so much. The words should sound like a punch or a kick. If I wanted to be metaphorical, I'd say the words were a punch below the belt. That kind of prose doesn't have quite the impact in an action story. But if you want to describe a fantasy landscape, the kind peopled with nymphs and fairies, not goblins and orcs, similes and metaphors could be used to great advantage. They're also pretty indispensable for writing poetry."

Ian made a gagging noise. "Not my style."

"If you ever decide to impress a girl, you might change your mind."

"Did you ever write that kind of stuff for a girl, Dad?" Ian wondered.

"Your mother enjoyed it sometimes, especially on Valentine's Day and our anniversary," Castle recalled. "I think she appreciated the words as much as the presents. When she was really sick, she liked it when I read poetry to her." Castle coughed to cover the catch in his throat."

"How about Detective Beckett?" Ian pressed, "would you write poetry for her?"

Castle pondered the question for a moment. "Maybe someday, but I have a feeling there might be serious mayhem involved in any odes to our warrior princess."

"Yeah Dad," Ian agreed. "I think you're right.


	28. Chapter 28

Ian

Chapter 28

Under his upscale suit, a loan from a similarly sized Castle, Detective Burt Yancy was encased in Kevlar, especially over his kidneys. If Rathborne did get close enough to employ his weapon of choice, it would be difficult for the blade to penetrate for the kill. The identity created for Yancy had been transmitted to Rathborne, along with an imaginary daily commute schedule from the Dakota to the financial district. Castle's money had been transferred as well. An ESU squad was stationed around the Dakota at Seventy-second Street and Central Park West. Another was at Yancy's supposed destination in South Manhattan. Police units and a helicopter were at ready to monitor him in between. Yancy slid behind the wheel. The ride seemed uneventful for almost the first mile, until two cars collided in front of the BMW at Sixty-third Street and Yancy was rear-ended as he stopped short. Traffic came to a halt. The drivers from the cars in front of Yancy jumped out, beginning a loud argument and drawing the attention of any onlookers. The driver of the car behind Yancy left his vehicle, giving every appearance of trying to offer aid. Instructions to move in crackled through the walkie talkies of Kate's nearest team members and ESU sped to the scene of the crash.

The driver who'd hit the BMW approached Yancy. He was tall and dark with broad shoulders but mild blue eyes, and identified himself as Joe. He suggested to Yancy that he step out of the car so they could check for damage to the BMW. Yancy made a show of rubbing his neck and told Joe that he preferred to stay where he was until the police could arrive and take an official report. Joe suggested that he could sit in the car with Yancy to make sure Yancy was all right until the cops made their appearance. Without agreement from Yancy, Joe circled the car and yanked open the passenger door. He saw Yancy's thirty-eight millimeter pointed at him and was immediately surrounded by a crush of other police officers armed with both pistols and rifles. Without a word, Joe put his hands behind his head and sank to his knees.

* * *

Joe had been put in Interrogation under the watchful eyes of L.T. and Officer Harrison. His cuffed wrists were chained through a hole in the table and his ankles were shackled. He had said only that he would not speak without an attorney present. Kate stared at him through the mirror in Observation, shivering slightly and rubbing her crossed arms with her hands. Castle put his arm around her, drawing her to the warmth of his body. Her voice trembled as she spoke. "It's him, Castle. We found the knife on him. It's a match to the one that killed my mother, Joshua Leeds, and the others. The drivers of the cars in front of Yancy's BMW admitted to being paid the stage the accident. His fingerprints came back. His name isn't Joe, it's Dick, Dick Coonan. He was in the army, special ops. He would have been trained to use that knife. Everything fits. We just need to get him to tell us who hired him to kill my mother and the others."

Castle drew her closer, lightly brushing his lips against her hair. "I know. The name fits. A dick like him, he'll spill his guts to try to save his own skin. It's only a matter of making the right deal. Is his lawyer on the way?"

"Uh huh, guy named Bill Moss, and a rep from the Attorney General's office too, a Candace Robinson. The man Leeds operated on was her witness." A smile ghosted on Kate's lips. "I hear she's tough. She's got the nickname 'Hard Candy.'"

Castle nodded his satisfaction. "So Dick the Prick has to face two formidable opponents. Do I get to pull up a seat in there?"

"I think it would be better if you watch from here, Castle. We don't want anything Moss can seize on to protest. Since you put up the money, he might even accuse you of having some kind of vested interest in the outcome. We can't give him any excuses. You'll have plenty of company though," Kate added. "Ryan and Esposito both want to hear every word and Captain Montgomery said he wants to observe as well."

"Hmm, I'd consider having the popcorn concession if just looking at Coonan wasn't so nauseating," Castle remarked. "Well maybe after you and Hard Candy get things nailed down, we can toss back a few."

Kate leaned into Castle's side. "Right now I'm looking forward to a hot bath to wash away the stench." At the sound of footsteps in the hall, she pulled away from Castle and looked through the window in the door. "The smarmy guy with the attache case coming this way must be Bill Moss and that's Hard Candy right behind him. Time to go to work."

Dick Coonan looked calm, too calm. As far as his bonds would allow, he lounged back in his chair. He gazed at Kate and Candace with a mixture of amusement and contempt, but said nothing. "My client has vital information to trade in exchange for his freedom," Moss announced.

"His freedom?" Kate repeated with incredulity. "Counselor, we have your client for multiple murders, including Joshua Leeds and Johanna Beckett. He was caught in the act of trying to fulfill a contract killing. If his information is good enough, the best he can hope for is a better cell."

"I think that once Ms. Robinson hears what we have to offer, he will do considerably better than that," Moss countered. "Mr. Coonan can point you at the person who has contracted his services for more than twenty murders over the span of more than a decade. That individual is a man of great influence and power. His involvement in the drug trade is only a small part of his criminal pursuits. You take him down and you will be profoundly reducing the level of crime not only in New York, but throughout this country and globally as well. That should be good for a walk."

"In your dreams, Counselor," Candace retorted. "If this person is as heavy a hitter as you say and I have my doubts about that, we might put eligibility for parole on the table, assuming that a judge would ever accept such a thing. But a man responsible for as many deaths as your client doesn't walk on my watch."

"Oh really?" Moss rejoined. "The witness you are so desperate to protect that your office hired the esteemed Doctor Leeds to disguise him, floods half the city with heroin. How many deaths is he responsible for? Yet you have plans to put him into Witsec. He can tell you much less than my client, but he won't pay for his crimes. So Ms. Robinson, either you're being disingenuous or a hypocrite. Neither is an attractive quality."

Kate's hands fisted, her nails digging into her palms. She could feel the sting of acid rising in her throat and struggled to keep control. "Mr. Moss, we are discussing no one but your client. As matters stand at this moment, it is unlikely that he will ever see daylight again from anywhere except behind walls topped with razor wire. And even that privilege may be in question. If he wants anything better than to spend twenty-three hours a day in a four by six cell for the rest of his worthless life, he will tell us who he's working for."

Coonan leaned forward for the first time. "I'll need protection. If I give you his name, I won't live a day in any kind of cell."

Candace deliberately addressed herself to Bill Moss, ignoring Coonan. "Counselor, if your client cooperates, he will be maintained in the segregated population. That's all I can promise, and considering the depravity of his crimes, he should be obscenely grateful for that gift. I'll give you a few moments to confer." With that, Candace Robinson rose and walked toward the door. Kate followed her out. Castle joined Kate in the hallway. After leading them both to the cover of a shadowy corner, she pressed her face into his chest. He could feel her tremble as silent tears seeped through the cotton of his shirt.


	29. Chapter 29

Ian

Chapter 29

Kate sipped slowly on foamy hot chocolate. Castle had crafted the rich creation in an attempt at beverage based comfort, before he was forced to retreat to the men's room to remove cocoa powder that had made its way down the front of his pants. Candace Robinson came into the break room and took a stool at the high table where Kate sat. "I just heard from my office," Candace reported grimly. "The higher ups want whomever is really behind these murders. They're willing to give Coonan anything he wants, including Witsec."

Kate put down her cup before it slid from her suddenly chilled fingers. "They're not serious! The man is a cold blooded killer! They're going to let him walk the streets?"

"Calm down, Kate," Candace counseled. "We don't need to let Moss or Coonan know that the A.G. is willing to give in. If we can pull what we want to know out of Coonan without making serious concessions, we'll do it. But I have to give in if they hold their ground. We just won't let them know they have any maneuvering room, unless we absolutely have no choice. We'll need to go in there strong, hard, and confident. Facing the man that killed your mother must tearing you apart. Can you hold it together enough to pull off the bluff?"

Kate's eyes narrowed as the muscles of her jaw tightened. "Just watch me!"

Coonan was leaning on the table when the women returned to Interrogation. Bill Moss sat erect and determined next to him. "My client needs a written deal signed by your boss and guaranteeing his safety, Ms. Robinson, before he tells you anything."

"Not good enough," Kate insisted. "If that happened, your client would have his deal and could stick us with a load of crap. We need something first."

Coonan sat up and looked at Moss, who nodded. "Fine," Coonan conceded. "I have a drop point where I receive instructions from the man in charge. There are things he no longer trusts to the web. I'll tell you where it is, but then I want my deal."

Kate pushed a pad and pen across the table. "Do it!"

"I can't write cuffed," Coonan complained.

"Then tell Mr. Moss and have him write it, stipulating that it came from you," Candace instructed.

"If it checks out," Kate added, "you get your deal. Until then, you're in holding."

* * *

The mailboxes couldn't have been more private. In an adjunct to a storage facility in a gentrified portion of Harlem, there were no cameras, no way to trace who came and went. The clients who owned the boxes were identified only by number and paid by cashier's checks or money orders that were virtually untraceable. CSU dusted the box identified by Coonan as the drop, but the only prints they found were his. Kate put a stakeout in place and instructed uniforms to start a canvass, but she didn't anticipate any immediate results, if she was lucky enough to get any at all. Castle had returned to Kate's car to call Ian, and she joined him, banging her hands against the steering wheel."

Castle's words came with a soft huskiness. "I'm sorry Kate. I know you were hoping for much more than this."

"Yeah, you're right Castle. I was. But we still have Coonan in holding and he doesn't have his deal yet. Unless Candy's office increases the pressure on her, if nothing breaks here, we'll demand more information." Kate's phone buzzed, and her screen identified the caller as Captain Montgomery. Kate activated the speaker. "Sir," she responded.

"Kate, I've got some bad news," the Captain relayed as gently as he could. "Harrison just checked holding. "She found Coonan, dead. There's not a mark on the body that we can see. Doctor Parish is on her way and we're scrubbing the video from holding now."

Kate stared unseeing into the empty air in front of her. Castle turned and leaned across the gap between their seats to cradle her face in his hands. "Kate, this isn't the end of the trail. We'll find out who took out Coonan. We'll trace it to whomever is pulling the strings. Whatever it takes, we'll find out who's behind this."

Kate pressed her cheek against his palm. "I know we will Castle. It's just every time I think we have something, it seems to slip away."

"I can drive," Castle suggested, "give you a chance to take a moment."

"I'll be fine, Castle," Kate assured him, "and it's my official vehicle. I can't let a civilian drive it. But thanks for the offer, thanks for just being here."

"Always," Castle murmured.

With Castle behind her, Kate rushed into the holding cell where Lanie Parish knelt over the body of Dick Coonan. Lanie looked up at her friend. "You okay Kate?"

"Lanie, just tell me what happened," Kate urged.

"Kate, it looks like anaphylactic shock, he had an extreme allergic reaction to something," Lanie explained.

Castle sniffed. "Smells like garlic."

"Good call, Castle," Lanie agreed. "I found inflammation on his fingers. There's a chemical called DMSO that will cause that, and carry almost anything through the skin - and it can make someone smell like garlic. It was probably smeared on something he touched, with whatever caused the allergy dissolved in it. I've asked CSU to examine anything Coonan might have come in contact with. And I'll run some tests to determine what caused the reaction. Kate, I'll let you know as soon as I come up with anything."

Kate drew patterns in the condensation on her beer glass. "I shouldn't be here Castle."

Castle leaned across the table in the old style booth at The Old Haunt. "It's better than sitting at your desk and chewing the skin off your beautiful tortured lip. And you know you'll get a call the minute anyone turns up anything. Just breathe, Kate. Anyway, I had strict instructions from Captain Montgomery to get you out of the precinct for a while. It wasn't helping to have you looking over the shoulders of the CSU techs. They know what they're doing. So do the officers canvassing around the drop and so does Lanie. Something will break, Kate, I just want to make sure it isn't you."

Kate glanced around, catching sight of the framed picture above their booth. "Castle, is that you? You look so young! What were you, eighteen?"

"I was twenty. I had just sold my first book."

"In A Hail of Bullets," Kate recalled.

Castle brushed her hand. "Thank you for remembering that. Anyway, this place was quite the writers' hangout in those days. I wrote most of that book right here in this booth. I'd sit here for hours nursing one beer and living on peanuts and pretzels. It's a wonder they didn't throw me out. But after the book was published, Leo, who ran the place back then, was so proud he put my picture up. I'm surprised it's still here. As much as I enjoy the atmosphere here, I haven't had much time for bars since Ian was born. At least now when I do come, I can afford to pay for more than one beer. You know, it wouldn't hurt you to eat something. The wings here are pretty good and ooh, years ago Leo bought a fried pickle recipe off some cook from the South. Those things are incredible! You have to try one. They make a crunch when you bite them that can be heard all the way to the sidewalk."

"Okay Castle," Kate agreed, her mouth threatening to curl upward for what seemed like the first time in days. "Right now crunching something would feel really good."

Castle squeezed her hand a signaled a server.


	30. Chapter 30

Ian

Chapter 30

Kate was savoring the sour tang of her last pickle when her phone buzzed with a call from Lanie. She put it on speaker so Castle could hear. "Kate, we found what killed Coonan. It was the protein from sesame seeds. I was right about it being in DMSO too. Someone smeared the flush levers of the toilets with the solution, and parts of the seats as well. The toilets are the one thing the cameras aren't aimed at in holding. There's no way to know exactly who did it. Also, sesame is a relatively rare allergy. It affects point one to one percent of the population and mostly hits kids. It could have been there for a while without affecting anyone else. And Kate, it was found in all the holding cells. Someone prepared for Coonan to be at the Twelfth.

"That means that someone knew about our plan to get him," Kate realized. "And that someone knew enough about Coonan to know about his allergy."

"It could have been in his military records," Castle pointed out. "in the parts of the world where he was most likely to be assigned, the use of sesame is more prevalent than it is in the U.S.."

"Still," Kate mused, "someone must have had access to those records. That wouldn't have been easy to get. Thanks, Lanie." Kate ended the call. "Castle we need to get back to the precinct!"

"Kate, just wait a minute," Castle cautioned. "This had to be an inside job. Obviously whoever ordered Coonan's death has eyes and ears in the Twelfth and could have them in the FBI and the A.G.'s office as well. You need to take some time and figure out exactly whom you can trust. And I'm betting right now it's a fairly short list."

Kate shoved her fingers into her hair, pushing it back from her face as she drew a breath. "You're right Castle. I may not even be able to trust the scrubbing of the video from holding. I'm going to need to see it myself. But I'd still be viewing it in Tech at the precinct."

"You don't have to," Castle offered. "The file's got to be way to big to email, but if you can download it onto a portable drive, you can watch it at my loft. I have a giant screen in my office and all the newest nifty toys. We can slow it down, zoom, anything you want. We could do it tonight."

"Okay, Castle, I'll go back to the precinct and see what I can manage."

* * *

"Dad," Ian wondered as he scooped a second helping of spaghetti onto his plate, "is Detective Beckett coming over tonight?"

"That's the plan," Castle confirmed. "She has something she has to do at the precinct first. Why, is it a problem?"

"No," Ian responded. "I was just wondering. Usually you look really up when you're expecting her and tonight you don't. If I had to draw you right now, I'd be putting in a lot of lines on your face that usually aren't there, or at least not as deep."

Castle's mouth formed a lopsided smile. "Well I guess I should be glad I'm not tonight's model. There have been some rough developments in this case and Kate is having a tough time."

"And you're worried about her," Ian observed.

"I want to help her. I think I'm doing that. I hope so," Castle confided.

"I'm sure you are, Dad," Ian declared. "You always find a way to help me when I get into a tough spot."

Castle put a hand on his son's shoulder. "I appreciate your vote of confidence. And I'd appreciate it even more if you help me with the dishes tonight. The pasta pot really needs some work and Kate could be arriving any time.

"Yeah, the spaghetti was kind of sticky tonight. It's good though. The sauce keeps it apart. Okay Dad, I'll help you, but you're going to have to do the pan next time we have lasagna."

"Deal," Castle agreed." The doorbell buzzed. "Just in time. The intrepid detective has arrived."

Kate charged through the door before Castle finished opening it. She held up a drive. "I got it, Castle."

Castle motioned her into his office and connected the drive to his computer. Images of the holding cells displayed on his screen, but Kate stared in frustration. "There's no way to see anyone doing anything to the toilets."

"We don't have to," Castle pointed out. "We look for someone moving out of frame in that direction, someone who doesn't have that 'I've gotta go,' look. No one is going to go near the toilets in those cells unless they have to, except for sesame killer. You know, Ian would be really good at this. He sees details in people's expressions that I'd never notice in a million years. That's why the faces he draws are so expressive. If you don't mind, I'm going to pull screen captures and have him tell us what he sees."

Kate sighed. "Castle, at this point, I'll take any help I can get."

By the time Kate had finished scanning through the video and Castle had pulled the images they needed, Ian had been in bed for several hours. Castle put together a set of slides to show his son when he woke up, while Kate returned to her apartment. The hours of shuteye would be severely limited for both of them.

Over a large bowl of cereal the next morning, Ian scrolled through the slides, stopping to study a few. "Well Dad, there's the obvious," he reported, "the janitor. He went to the toilets, but he has a brush. He was probably just cleaning them, and from what you found, not too well. He didn't look upset or nervous, just bored."

"That would make sense," Castle commented. "We've talked shop a couple of times. He's a freelance writer, but he's working as a janitor until he can actually support himself with his craft. He's bored, but at least he isn't starving. Who else?"

Ian pointed to a slide. "There's this guy, one of the uniformed officers. He looks, I'm not sure how I'd describe it - hard. It's definitely the look I'd put on a villain, the kind who doesn't care who he he kills. He was in all the cells too. Ian scrolled to another image. "Then there is this guy. He looks like some kind of lawyer, but not one who's making a bunch of money." Ian zoomed in. "See, his shoes are worn. Also his briefcase is all scuffed up."

"That might just make him a public defender," Castle advised. "They're at the precinct a lot. Anything else about him?"

"Uh huh, he looks scared, but like he's trying to hide it, as if he's afraid of being caught. It's the way I'd draw some super villain's henchman, probably one who'd get knocked off early in a story."

"Well let's hope no one knocks him off before Kate and I can find out who he is so Kate can grill him. Thanks son. You continue to amaze me."

Ian slurped the last of the milk out of his bowl. "You're welcome Dad. Tell Detective Beckett I hope I helped."

"I will," Castle assured his son, "you can count on it."


	31. Chapter 31

Ian

Chapter 31

J. Tercic Hubble was sweating - a lot. He had been in Interrogation many times before, but always with a client. Facing the unrelenting stare of Kate Beckett directly was a new experience. The fact that her writer shadow, Richard Castle, was at her side, did nothing to lighten the atmosphere in the room. Kate opened a leather covered file as if to study something. Finally she pulled out the attorney's picture. "Mr. Hubble, is this you?"

"Of course," Hubble confirmed, "I was visiting a client. I visit clients in holding all the time."

Kate pulled out several more photos. "Yes, Mr. Hubble, I can see that. In fact you visited clients in every single holding cell here within less than twenty-four hours." Kate displayed video clips on a laptop. "Now the curious thing is that while you were talking to all of them, you moved away from your clients not toward them. Where were you going, Mr. Hubble? There was nothing in the direction you went but the toilets."

Castle quirked an eyebrow. "Taking a leak in front of your clients?"

Hubble flushed. "Unfortunately I had to. I have a condition. When I get scared I have to … well you know. And I get assigned some crazy clients. They're in your pictures. A couple of those guys are walking mountains - with tattoos. As unpleasant as the toilets in holding are, and I kept getting something oily on my hand when I flushed them, they're better than wetting my pants in front of those maniacs. Who knows what they would do?"

Visualizing the scene Hubble described, Kate hid a smile behind her hand. "Have you ever considered another field of practice?" Castle inquired. "Sounds like health law might be a better fit. You could take part of your fees in trade."

"Are you kidding?" Hubble groaned, "I have applications into every firm in three states, but I wasn't exactly at the top of my class. This job was open. Not many lawyers want it."

"Mr. Hubble are you allergic to anything?" Kate interjected

Hubble gazed at her, puzzled. "Penicillin - all the cillins actually, Keflex, and shellfish. Why?"

Kate ignored his question. "No nuts or seeds?"

"Thank God no, in law school I practically lived on peanut butter and Big Macs," Hubble confided. What does that have to do with anything?"

Castle turned to Kate. "Two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions, on a sesame seed bun," he jingled.

Kate lightly kicked Castle's ankle under the table, before standing up. "Alright, you can go, Mr. Hubble. Good luck. I believe the unis just went out to pick up a perp named Peppermint. Took down six people in a bar fight. He's a regular. One of yours?"

Hubble quickly headed for the door. "Excuse me, I need the men's room."

Castle looked after him. "Poor guy. He should probably just invest in adult diapers. I hear they have them with pictures of syndication stars on them now. Matlock would be perfect for him."

"Well your son was right about him being scared, Castle. But if he's into Big Macs, he's definitely not our guy. I showed the picture of the uni Ian spotted from the pictures to the Watch Commander. He identified him as Ross Fredrickson. He's new, he was a cop in D.C.. He's on evening shift."

"That is interesting," Castle remarked.

"More interesting than you think. The canvass around Coonan's mail drop didn't come up with much, but someone making a late night visit to their storage unit saw a car parked at the building where the boxes are. They weren't worried enough to get a plate number, but they did say the plate had 'No Taxation Without Representation' on it. It caught their eye because they'd just filed their quarterlies and they were ticked off at the IRS. That's a D.C. Plate."

"Interesting indeed. So when will you be interviewing Officer Fredrickson?" Castle inquired."

"I don't want to spook him or send him running to his boss," Kate explained. "I'll catch him when he comes in this afternoon. He's due in at three. I'll give him some time to get comfortable then grab him around four."

"Ooh, that's perfect. I need to meet with an artist who's going to be working on a Derrick Storm graphic novel, but I can be back in time. Ian's got a tutoring session and he can definitely do without me looking over his shoulder."

"Well you can look over mine, Castle, but no more jingles please," Kate requested.

"I kind of got that from the bruise on my ankle. I will keep my vast repertoire of catchy commercials to myself," Castle promised.

* * *

Kate had chosen the lounge rather than Interrogation for Fredrickson's interview. Castle regarded the eyes Ian had described as hard. They were narrowed and the pupils constricted. The look certainly didn't invite friendship. "Officer Fredrickson, I understand that you relocated from Washington D.C.," Kate began.

Fredrickson nodded slightly. "That's correct. I was a member of the Capitol Police, part of the Congressional Safety Detail."

"And you've been with the N.Y.P.D. how long?" Kate continued.

"Two months," Fredrickson replied. "What's this all about, Detective?"

Kate settled back in her chair, attempting to appear casual. "I'm sure you're aware of the death of Dick Coonan while in custody. I have to check out anyone who might have had contact with him. You understand. You're currently assigned to Holding, aren't you?"

"That's right," Fredrickson confirmed.

"From guarding congressmen to guarding lowlifes, kind of a step down, isn't it?" Castle inquired.

"Depends on what you know about members of Congress," Fredrickson rejoined. "But anyway, I have people in New York I wanted to be close to. This slot was open. I'm sure the opportunity for something better will come along."

"Officer Fredrickson, the video shows you entered all of the holding cells. What was your purpose?" Kate questioned.

"Looking for contraband, drugs, weapons. You never know what these slime balls might have on them, or hide somewhere," Fredrickson asserted.

"They do get searched when we bring them in," Kate pointed out.

"Well I like to conduct searches of my own," Fredrickson insisted. "I hate nasty surprises."

"As do I," Kate responded. "Thank you, Officer. You can return to your duties now."

"What do you think, Kate?" Castle asked after Fredrickson had left the lounge.

"I don't buy his excuse," Kate declared. There's no place in those cells to hide anything. The toilets don't even have tanks. The floors and walls are solid and the benches are metal. Anyway, if he was conducting searches, we would have seen it on the video and we didn't. He's lying, Castle."

"So what are you going to do?" Castle queried.

"Check out the D.C. connection. I have contacts there, people I met my first year of college. I was in pre-law at Stanford before my mother was killed and I transferred to N.Y.U.. Some of my classmates have done pretty well in the halls of power. I'm going to find out what Fredrickson did while he was in D.C., and for whom."

"I have some contacts there too," Castle offered. "I got involved in all sorts of things researching my Derrick Storm novels. I'll see what I can pick up about a D.C. connection to the New York drug trade. This is getting uglier by the minute, Kate."

Kate sighed. "It always was Castle, I just never knew about it."


	32. Chapter 32

Ian

Chapter 32

"Castle, we really need to talk to Candy Robinson's witness again too," Kate realized. "This is no longer about some local drug ring. If whatever is happening is D.C. based, it could be national, hell it could be international. Even if Mummy Man is just a New York cog in the machine, he has to know something more than Dick Coonan's IP address. He has to have had some kind of D.C. connection."

Castle ran a hand over the stubble that had begun to form on his jawline. "Considering what happened to Coonan in N.Y.P.D. custody, you think she and the feebies are about to allow that? Wouldn't they just be tightening security?

"They probably would," Kate agreed, "but I have to try. I'll call her and then start on my other contacts."

Castle looked at his watch. "I'll contact my people too, but I need to get home. Ian's tutoring session should be winding up and I have some notes to submit on the graphic novel I told you about. I'll let you know if I come up with anything. You'll do the same?"

"I will, Castle," Kate assured him. "You and Ian have a good night, and thank him for me. I don't think I would have zeroed in on Fredrickson without the help of both Castles."

Castle smiled, lightly brushing her cheek with his knuckles "I will."

Castle stopped on the way back to the loft to pick up Mother's Clucks, chicken that was one of Ian's favorite forays into grease. Castle would have preferred coq au vin, but the first time Ian had tasted it, his face had screwed into an almost unrecognizable form and Castle hadn't suggested it again. Cluck's saving grace was the potato wedges. They weren't any closer to health food than the chicken was, being dredged in more salt than a New York soft pretzel, but they were meaty and satisfying. The cole slaw wasn't bad either and the giant cookies were crumbly but contained enough chocolate to make their consumption worthwhile.

"Hey Dad," Ian called enthusiastically as Castle juggled his bags through the door, "I got through five pages without a single inversion."

"Then we have two causes for cluckery," Castle grinned, "your progress with your reading and your success in spotting our main suspect."

Ian rushed over to grab a bag that threatened to slip from his father's fingers. "Super crispy?"

"In all its artery clogging glory," Castle responded. "So what did you read five error free pages of?"

"Ecology. It was a story about Pete Seeger and the sloop project he got going to clean up the Hudson. It was really cool. But I think what you were doing was cooler. Was it the cop? He was definitely the meanest looking."

Castle nodded as he pulled a pile of paper napkins from a cabinet in the kitchen and threw them on the table. "Looks like you nailed it son, and Kate says thanks, but we have a long way to go to proving it and figuring out whom he did it for. I'm going to make some calls about that tonight, after we finish stuffing ourselves."

Ian plunked a couple of plates on the table and arranged the fast food feast. "That's shiny, Dad."

The chicken was quickly reduced to bones and Ian took the lion's share of the cookies up to his room while Castle retreated to his office. Castle hesitated before picking up his phone. It had been a long time since he'd talked to Sofia Turner and even longer since he'd seen her. He had never expected to get any kind of decent access to operational details at the CIA. When he'd sat down with Sofia on a trip Ian's scout trip had taken to the Capitol, he'd expected, at most, a sanitized version. But Sofia had been remarkably forthcoming, almost too forthcoming. She'd made no secret that she found the mystery writer attractive. Castle couldn't miss the sexual allure that poured from every pore of her skin. He suspected that she had set more than one honey trap. But even if he had been in the market for a bed partner, he hadn't been about to indulge in a roll in the hay while he had responsibility for six little boys. Still, the pull between them was palpable and they'd stayed in touch. Aspects of Sofia had found their way into more than one of Castle's characters and there were bits and pieces of her in the upcoming graphic novel as well. Castle certainly didn't need any more complications in his life at that moment, but if talking to Sofia could help uncover whatever scum was behind the murder of Kate's mother and so many others, Castle would re-establish contact. He punched in a number, spoke a few code words and hung up the phone.

He didn't have to wait long for a response. Sofia's sultry voice flowed through Castle's cell like warm caramel. "What sorts of tales are you spinning now, Rick?"

"Unfortunately, right now I'm well steeped in reality," Castle confided. "I've been working with the N.Y.P.D."

"So I've heard," Sofia remarked. "Found yourself another muse, Rick?"

"Actually, she sort of found me, but listen Sofia, we've stumbled into something deadly. Someone in D.C. with a lot of power, possibly congressional power, is not only involved with a drug ring but a string of murders as well. We don't know yet how high it goes, but it looks like it's pretty far up the chain. You have ears everywhere. Have you heard anything?"

"Rick," Sofia chided, "the CIA doesn't involve itself in domestic affairs."

"And pigs fly out of my nose," Castle retorted. "I don't want the official line, Sofia, We need to get this guy. Among other things, he's responsible for the death of the mother of a friend of mine."

"And I'm guessing that friend would be your new muse," Sofia smirked.

"Sofia," Castle returned, 'if that is you being jealous, it is unbecoming. This is important. Have you heard any chatter or not?"

"About drug money flowing into the sacred marble halls, yes. From what we've picked up, someone connected with the armed services committee has been using their access to funnel drugs into the United States from Afghanistan and use the money to build some kind of political war chest. Distribution involves a lot more than New York. The drugs are rumored to be going to major cities all over the country. Homeland has gotten involved which means there are multiple agencies all tripping over each other. Our people are looking at stemming the tide at the Afghan end, but mostly they're running up against brick walls and M-16s. You should run, not walk, away from this Rick, and take your new girlfriend with you. The operation is well protected, and if you two get too close to it, you could end up being the next marks on the murder tally."

Rick swallowed hard. "I'll pass that on, Sofia, but I can't picture Kate running from anything, and I'm already involved. That could mean I'm already in the cross hairs. Somehow we're going to have to take this puppet master down. That's the only way to insure anyone will be safe."

Rick could almost feel the warm breath through the phone as Sofia sighed. "In that case, Rick, I wish you the best of luck. You'll need it."

As the call ended, Rick buried his head in his hands. He had never anticipated anything like this happening when he started shadowing Kate Beckett. It would be bad enough if someone came after him. He had no wish to leave his son without a father. But he could no longer involve Ian. So far it appeared that family members of those targeted remained untouched. He would have to make sure it remained that way. It might not be a bad idea to look into some extra security either. Several of the celebrities he had known over the years, especially some of his mother's more A list friends, had their own. Picking up his phone again, he decided to see if someone could steer him to the best.


	33. Chapter 33

Ian

Chapter 33

Kate's eyes darkened in defiance. "Castle, are you telling me that Clara Strike was based on a real CIA agent and that she's warning us off digging into this case?"

"Not based on, Kate," Castle corrected. "It's not like I could follow her around and get involved in cases with her like I do with you. Ian was just a little kid then and she was based in D.C.. I consulted with her on occasion for authenticity. I'm just saying there are aspects of her in Clara Strike. The character looks a little like her. But that's not the point. Kate, I never expected you to step back from this. What I'm saying is we have to do our damnedest to stay alive while we pursue it. Obviously whoever our Mr. Big is, he has no shortage of minions willing to take us out of the way. And I need to keep Ian safe too. Mother knows a singer who was being stalked a few years ago. Someone actually tried to kill him at the Grammys. I'm trying to hire the guy who protected him."

"Castle, you hire whoever you think you need to, but I better not trip over him," Kate warned.

"You won't," Castle promised. "He or his operatives will be checking out the security at the loft and Ian's school and guarding Ian. Ian actually thinks the idea is cool because he might want to make a character out of the guy. But anyway, my people won't interfere with you. You'll have enough to worry about with the various feds. Speaking of which, how did your discussion with Hard Candy go?"

"Not well, Castle. She considers the expansion of this case even more reason to keep Mummy Man under wraps. But Ryan used some of his contacts in Narcotics to work around that. He heard that someone who isn't one of the usual New York suspects has been seen around a suspected base of operations. They don't have enough to pick him up and Ryan doesn't think they really want to. They're just going to keep an eye out for him and see what develops. I figure we might do the same. Are you ready for a stake out?"

"Do we have anything else?" Castle queried.

"Not really," Kate admitted."If anyone I talked to in D.C. knew anything, they weren't willing to discuss it. The activity that Ryan's contacts reported took place after dark. Join me tonight?"

"If I have someone with Ian, I will," Castle agreed.

* * *

At first glance, Carl Warner did not look formidable. He was shorter than Castle and his shoulders weren't as broad. But he moved with an awareness of everything around him. His eyes automatically scanned the loft, taking in every possible opportunity for a breach. "Alright, Mr. Castle, as I understand it, you are concerned for your son because you are involved in the investigation of someone you believe to be responsible for multiple murders spanning over a decade. In addition you believe there is drug involvement and protection from high levels of government."

"That sums it up well," Castle confirmed.

"I've already spotted multiple security concerns here. Your windows make you vulnerable to shots from the building across the street. We'll want to keep those covered. There is accessibility for someone repelling down from the roof as well. There's also a way into this building from the one next door that bypasses the doorman and the security door in the back. We can put cameras in those areas. I can also be with your son or have one of my people with him at all times. My services do not come cheap though, Mr. Castle."

"I never expected they would, Mr. Warner," Castle responded, "but Ian is priceless. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to protect him, starting now, if that's possible."

"It is possible within a couple of hours, Mr. Castle. I'll supervise whatever set-ups are necessary and I have an operative who can be with your son as of late this afternoon. You'll want to notify Ian's school and anywhere else he goes, that he will be under guard," Warner urged. "But I would advise limiting his movements as much as possible. It will be much easier to protect him in places where we can establish parameters and protocols. We'll also want to vette anyone who has regular contact with him, even if they've already been background checked. There are issues that never appear in public records."

Castle extended his hand. "Whatever you think is necessary."

* * *

Castle tried to get comfortable in the passenger seat of Kate's unit. Carl Warner's operative, Cory Jasper, inspired confidence. Although silver was clearly visible at his temples, he moved smoothly and without impediment. The curriculum vitae Warner had provided for Jasper were impressive, listing years in the military and even more years in security work. He was quiet, but made his presence felt. He also knew comic books, which immediately endeared him to Ian. There was little reason for Castle to still be nervous about the safety of his son, but as the hours passed staring at nothing, doomsday scenarios increasingly invaded his consciousness. He was jarred when Kate whispered, "There!"

A dark sedan had pulled up in front of the building they were surveying. Kate immediately snapped a picture with a night vision camera. A slightly built man carrying an attache case debarked, making his way to the building entrance. Kate caught his image as well. The door opened at his approach and he slipped in. "They must have a camera at the door," Kate surmised. "And they were expecting him."

Their quarry left the building a few moments later and returned to his car. He appeared to make a call before departing. Kate followed, hanging back as much as she could, to avoid being observed. Their route led south through surface streets of Manhattan. They were entering the lower thirties when Castle heard the screaming of sirens. The sedan was a block ahead, but Kate was forced to stop to allow several vehicles from the fire department to pass in front of her on a cross street. When Kate was finally able to proceed, the sedan was no longer in sight. Circling the area, she broadcast a bulletin to all the units in the area, but no one spotted it. Kate drove the rest of the short distance to the Twelfth. Pulling into the official vehicle parking area, she beat her fists against the steering wheel. "Damn, Castle, we had him! That had to be the worst possible time for a fire."

Castle reached over, putting a comforting hand on her arm. "I don't think there's ever a good one, Kate. But you got picture of the car and the driver and you know where we lost him. He must be on traffic video and he has to have have pulled in somewhere close. We still have a chance to track him down." Castle gazed at the glowing dial on his watch. "It's two A.M.. We can both use some rest and I need to check in on Ian and his watcher. Share a cab? We live pretty close to each other and we'll be lucky to get even one at this time of the morning. And I could use your assistance. With your assets of Colbert, if one is around, the driver is more likely more likely to stop for you than for me.

Kate couldn't resist the upward tug on the corners of her mouth. "Okay Castle, I'll make sure you get home all right."

A/N I will not tell you how it came to pass, but one night in New York I happened to be with, among other people, an extremely well endowed exotic dancer. She easily got us a cab.


	34. Chapter 34

Ian

Chapter 34

When Castle arrived at the loft, Cory Jasper was seated at the dining table with a mug of coffee and a tablet showing the readout of the surveillance cameras Carl Warner had installed. "Ian has been asleep in his room since eleven and I've observed no suspicious activity," he reported.

As adrenaline drained from his blood, exhaustion weighed on Castle like a heavy cloak. "I'll just look in on him before I turn in." Castle heavily climbed the stairs and gazed in the slightly open door of his son's room. The boy lay on his side, his hair hopelessly tousled and one hand beneath his pillow. It was a position Kyra had slept in when Castle had been up late writing. Castle felt a twinge in his chest. He backed away as softly as he could and descended to the lower level.

"Good night sir," Cory called after him as Castle made his way to his bedroom.

After being folded for hours into the less than roomy seat of Beckett's unit, Castle's king sized bed looked more than inviting. He undressed quickly and slipped between the sheets. They were cold. It's not as if he could have expected anything else, but after his flash of bittersweet memory and on top of most of a night spent in Kate's company, the sumptuous bed seemed more lonely than comforting. He closed his eyes, willing his brain to rest, but images forced their way behind tightly squeezed lids. There was Kyra in a bed, but not Rick's. It was the hospital bed Rick had installed in their apartment so she could spend her last days in the company of family and friends. He watched, desperately holding his infant son in his arms, as her body, ravaged by cancer and the drugs that failed to halt it, grew weaker by the minute. She was leaving him, and no prayer, no bargain, no amount of love or money could stop her passing. Tears were wet on his face. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He wanted to crawl in beside her, to go with her, but the tiny soul nestled against his body needed his father and Rick loved him to much to abandon him, even in his grief.

The scene suddenly shifted. Castle recognized the Capitol Mall with it's familiar monuments. Kate was running across the grass. There shouldn't have been a car there, but a black sedan pursued her. She dodged wildly, calling Castle's name. He tried to get to her, but the grass sprouted wildly, wrapping around his legs. Razor-sharp, it cut into his flesh as he struggled to tear himself free. Finally the roots ripped from the ground and he was running with Kate, but the car was upon them, the sound of the motor thundering in Castle's ears. Castle grabbed for Kate's hand, their fingers twining. The burning metal of the car collided with his bloodied legs and he could feel Kate falling to the ground beside him. A soft whisper of "Dad," reached out to him as darkness descended.

Castle's eyes flew open, meeting Ian's concerned gaze. "Dad I was getting ready for Mr. Warner to take me to school. I wanted to let you sleep, but you were sweating and yelling and tearing the bed apart. Are you okay?"

Castle pulled himself up, his legs still stinging in the aftermath of his dream. "Fine. Just a nightmare. Kate had a bag of jalapeno chips in the car last night. I should have known better."

"Did you and Detective Beckett get your guy?" Ian inquired eagerly.

"Almost, but he got away. We have a lot to go on, though. We'll track him down." Castle pulled his watch from his bedside table. "You'd better finish getting ready. I'll be out in a minute."

After Ian had retreated, and despite protesting muscles, Castle hauled himself from the bed and wrapped himself in a robe. The last of a pot of coffee sat on the kitchen counter. Castle wrinkled his nose as he sniffed it and started a new one. He considered making a morning scramble, but his stomach rebelled at the idea. Ian stuffed a lunch bag, the contents of which Castle hesitated to ponder, into his backpack. Carl Warner was at the door waiting. Ian nodded at him. "See you later, Dad," Ian called as Carl carefully scanned the hallway before ushering the boy out.

Castle stared at the door that had closed behind his son and his bodyguard. He couldn't believe how well Ian was taking things in stride. Castle supposed it was all an adventure, soon to end up on Ian's sketch pad. Castle wished he could manage his case with Kate with the same aplomb. He decided on a hot shower while the coffee was brewing. If nothing else, at least he'd be clean and awake.

* * *

Kate Beckett stood beneath a pelting spray. After three hours sleep, frustration had driven her from her bed. She needed something she could dig into. The thought of burrowing into Castle intruded into her thoughts. She held the picture in her mind. To be lost in him for a few hours or even a few minutes, and banish all thoughts of murder from her mind would be a wonderful gift, one she hoped she could give herself again before too long. But right now, there was too much to do, too much occupying both their minds. She couldn't understand how Castle did it: working with her, taking care of a both gifted and challenged son, working on a book. He handled all of that, and she was barely holding it together with just the case. She shook herself. The case put everything else in jeopardy. At least for her, it had to come before thoughts of anything else. She turned off the water and climbed over the porcelain barrier of the old style ball and claw tub. She had wrapped a towel around her when her phone dinged with a text. The video from the traffic cams was in. If the mysterious sedan was on it, she hoped her eyes were clear enough to spot it.

* * *

Castle joined Kate in Tech, resting a hand on her shoulder. She reached back and squeezed it lightly. She'd paused the feed and was staring at the screen. "Castle, I can't get an angle where I can make out the plate."

Castle pointed at the screen. "What's that in the back window? Is that a parking sticker? Can you zoom in?" On magnification, the shape was blurred but visible. "That looks like wings and a beak - that's a bird!" Castle exclaimed. He rubbed his hand up and down his face as he thought. "Umm, places to stay in the thirties with a bird. The Thicket!"

Kate looked back at him, puzzled. "Castle, I've never heard of a hotel called The Thicket."

"That's because it's not a hotel, Kate. It's a private club. It has branches in several other cities, including D.C.. Not exactly my choice of playground, but some of the writers at Black Pawn belong to it. It specializes in lithesome ladies covered by just enough feathers to be legal. They call them 'birds in the thicket,' Thus the name of the club. There are rooms there where members can stay. The staff is pledged to utmost discretion. It would make a great hideout for someone pursuing activities they didn't want publicized."

"Castle we need to check that place out!" Kate declared.

"Kate, it's members only. They'll never let you in. I could apply for membership," Castle proposed. "I've written decent reviews for some of the members. Maybe I can get one of them to sponsor me."

"Castle that would take time. Our guy could take off any day." Kate raised her leg, bending it behind her head. "I'm pretty lithesome. I'm going to apply for a job."


	35. Chapter 35

Ian

Chapter 35

Castle swallowed. "Whoa, Kate, wait a minute! The Thicket isn't a yoga class. Those ladies are professional teases. The Birds, they're like Playboy Bunnies used to be. They're there to turn the guys on and get them fluffed for whatever they might want to do in the rooms, or wherever."

"But if they're like Bunnies, it's look but don't touch, right Castle?" Kate pressed. "Any contortions I'd do would be strictly for show. The men would have to procure their other amusements without the feathers. And if someone gets too hands on, I can always break a finger or two."

"I suppose," Castle conceded. "But what if something goes wrong? What if you're spotted by someone who knows you're a cop? You'll have no place to hide your gun."

"Castle," Kate rebutted, "what if you become a member and you're spotted? You don't even have a gun. You don't have my training either. I can take care of myself. Warrior princess, remember?"

Castle closed his eyes, shaking his head. "But real life doesn't come with a reset switch. If you want to do this, I'll support you in any way I can, but Kate, promise me you'll be damn careful."

Kate rose from her seat and turned to Castle, wrapping her arms arms around his waist. "Alright Castle, I promise."

* * *

Age lines carefully disguised by makeup and shapely body still firm, an artificially red-haired Mother Bird regarded a scantily clad Kate with merciless appraisal. "There's no doubt that you have great legs. Your ass is good too. The boobs could definitely use some help, especially if you want to make decent tip money. Usually, the bigger the cup size, the bigger the wad, if you know what I mean. We have some special tape you can use under the feathers to enhance the yourself as much as possible. The girls can teach you how to use it. You might want to bend over as much as possible too, display your best side. You'll be participating in a routine once an hour and when you're not doing that, you'll be serving. That means that you'll be on your feet for pretty much your whole shift. And you will be expected to wear at least a three inch heel. Can you handle that?"

"Yes Mother Bird," Kate agreed. "I can handle anything that comes my way."

"We'll see," Mother Bird returned. "Your first three months will be probationary. We'll be judging whether you actually belong in The Thicket. If you do your job well and our members like you, you can clear close to six figures a year. But if you miss a shift for any reason, you must get a replacement. If your shift goes unfilled, you're out. If a member complains about your service, you're out. If you mess up a routine, you're out. Are you reading me?"

"Loud and clear," Kate agreed. "I won't disappoint you, Mother Bird."

Mother Bird showed no signs of softening. "For your sake, I hope you don't."

* * *

Castle met fellow author, the slightly paunchy but highly enthusiastic Brian Brimstone, at a bar where the servers' necklines plunged and well shaped posteriors were barely covered by cut-off jeans. "Rick, I'm really glad that you're thinking about getting out a bit. Been quite a while since you took the bolt cutters to the chain Gina had on you. Seems like you've barely been anywhere except book signings, launch parties, and crime scenes. A man should have a little fun in his life."

Castle took a sip of beer and dipped a triangle of pita into the well of hummus on his appetizer platter. "I agree I have been keeping my nose a little too close to the grindstone the past few years. But I'm ready to venture out a little now. I really appreciate you arranging to get me a guest key to The Thicket. I don't know if I'll want to join or not, but I think I'll enjoy finding out."

Brain clapped him on the shoulder. "No sweat, Buddy. Just make sure when my next book comes out you'll write a blurb that will aim fingers toward the 'buy' button. All on the same team, right?"

"Absolutely," Castle agreed. "Compatriots of the keyboard."

* * *

When Castle was ushered to his table at The Thicket, the show was already underway. Kate was on the small stage with four other Birds. Castle gazed in horrified fascination as they manipulated their limbs, joining together to forms patterns that were suggestive of different aspects of female anatomy. As each formation was completed, their throats vibrated in the Thicket Tweet. The sound was supposed to be suggestive of a mating call, but it didn't sound to Castle like any feathered friend he'd ever heard, at least not of the egg laying variety. The ladies presented their final display and left the stage to retrieve the tablets on which they entered their customers' requests. Luck and a hundred dollar bill had ensured Castle was seated at one of Kate's tables. "Does doing that hurt?" he inquired softly as Kate arrived to take his order.

"Only my pride in the female gender," Kate whispered in his ear, fluttering her lashes as if she was flirting. "Castle, order something expensive enough to give me an excuse to talk to you."

Castle requested a Glenfiddich 30 and Kate smiled, her hips swaying enough to make her feathers wave as she sashayed away. Castle scanned the room as Kate took orders from other patrons, before making her way to receive the requested libations from a bartender who was both buxom and a mistress of mixology. Castle's eyes came to rest on a table in a corner out of Kate's assigned territory. Its occupant was slight, as the man he'd seen on stakeout had been. There was no sign of an attache case, but it could easily be in the man's room. Castle assessed him. His suit was expensive. That would hardly be out of the ordinary in a place like The Thicket. But the man seemed to have a wariness about him, unlike that of any of the other patrons. He slipped slowly at his drink and nibbled on fried mozzarella sticks. It was clearly not his intention to get drunk. His eyes did not appear to follow the Birds around the room either, regardless of how sexily their feathers swished. Castle wondered if the man was gay. If he was, he would certainly be expected to patronize a different sort of birdcage, making The Thicket a perfect hiding place.

It was not at all difficult for Castle to appear to flirt with Kate when she returned to his table with his scotch. He made a grand gesture of laying two large bills on her tray. Between them was a note alerting her to his suspicions. "I'll just check these out, honey," she purred saucily. While pretending to admire the tip, she quickly read the note and then tucked it and the bills into a feathered pouch that provided one of her few bits of coverage. She smiled, blew him a kiss and sauntered away. Castle couldn't help gluing his eyes to the motion of her retreating form, but his gaze eventually returned to the real object of his surveillance. The man had pushed back his chair and was preparing to leave his table. Castle was determined to follow.


	36. Chapter 36

Ian

Chapter 36

Castle wondered if his quarry just might be slipping out to use the men's room, but the slight patron walked right past it. While being given a guest tour, Castle had memorized the layout of The Thicket as best he could. The hall ahead forked. To the left were the private rooms, but no egress. To the right was the exit. If the man he followed turned left, Castle would be stuck. Castle prayed for a right turn. His prayers were answered as the departing patron headed for the underground parking structure. With a destination in mind, Castle stopped for a moment, staying back in an effort to make his tail less obvious. Continuing his journey to the garage, Castle slipped behind a pillar when he spotted the familiar sedan. He breathed a sigh of relief that the front of the car was facing him, and curled his fingers around his cell phone. The suspect opened the car door and turned in Castle's direction before sliding into the driver's seat. Peeking out from his concealment, Castle snapped a straight on full face picture and captured the license plate. "Got you!" he exclaimed as the sedan drove away.

* * *

The pouches on the costumes of the Birds at The Thicket were designed to accommodate cash tips, but very few patrons paid their tabs that way. Most charges were either to a credit card or a club account. Either way, there would be an identification Kate could trace, if she could get a number or a name. Unfortunately another Bird had delivered the check Kate was interested in to the cashier and it had been recorded in The Thicket's computerized system to which no Bird had a password. Kate had noted that the cashiers were extremely conscientious about signing in and out of their terminals if they had to step away for any reason. If Kate was going to get a look at the records, she would have to resort to drastic measures. As her mind struggled to formulate a plan, her eyes searched the room, falling on a little red box on the wall. Playfully exchanging teasing banter with a customer who had built up a considerable bar tab, she eased toward it. A group of Birds, not including Kate, started another titillating exhibition. As the eyes in the room turned to the stage, Kate pulled the fire alarm.

It was as Kate had hoped. In the chaos of rushing to escape the building, the cashier had left her terminal logged on. As the building emptied, Kate scrolled through the transactions. There was only one bill within the last hour that had mozzarella sticks on it. Using the note Castle had slipped to her and one of the many pens given to customers to sign checks, Kate made a note of the credit card number, stuffed it in her pouch, then quickly left the club.

* * *

As he was returning to The Thicket building, Castle heard the whoops of the alarm. At first he was frantic about Kate's safety. His eyes searched the rush of patrons and employees pushing their way out. There was no sign of Kate, but he saw no flames and smelled no smoke either. He began to wonder if she had created a distraction for some reason. Finally he saw her emerge, shivering as the outside air reached her exposed skin. He rushed toward her, removing his jacket. Smirking, in hopes of appearing to any onlookers as a customer exploiting an opportunity to make time with a Bird, he wrapped her in the garment. In the confusion, the two of them headed for his car and made their escape.

Kate pulled Castle's jacket tightly around her as he drove. "Castle, I hope you were right about that guy. I broke the law in two different ways to get a credit card number. It better have been worth it."

Oh it was Kate," Castle assured her proudly. "I saw the car he got in. It was the same one we were trailing, and Kate, I got his picture and his plate." Castle reached for a control on his dashboard to turn up the heat. "Wow, you're still shivering. Are you all right?"

"Aside from sore feet and an aching back, I'm fine Castle. If Birds really do pull down the kind of big money Mother Bird told me they do, they earn every penny of it."

"Ian is at school and my shower has a great massage setting. We could swing by your place and pick you up some clothes, then you can avail yourself of the output of my super-sized water heater," Castle proposed. "I might even throw in some hands on attention to your most needy areas."

Kate reached a hand out to the warm air now blasting from a vent. "That's sounds heavenly, Castle, and there's no way I can go back to the precinct looking like this."

"I sincerely doubt that many of the boys in blue would object, but I suspect it is outside the dress code. And it doesn't quite fit the description of under cover," Castle added, wiggling his eyebrows.

Kate rolled her eyes. "Just drive, Castle."

* * *

Kate luxuriated under the pulsating hot water that was everything Castle had promised. It caressed her skin and felt comfortingly warm against her feet. Still, she was imagining what Castle's large hands could do for the knots in the small of her back, as the door of the stall opened a crack. Castle was still wearing his clothes as he uncertainly peered through the steam. I was wondering if you could use a hand."

"Castle, I think I could use two."

I'll be right back," he promised, closing the door again. He returned, wrapped only in a thick towel, which he dropped before stepping into the swirling vapors. Taking a place behind her, he rotated his thumbs at the base of her spine. "Here?"

Kate leaned into the pressure and sighed. "Oh yeah."

Castle could feel her muscles relax beneath his hands as her head fell back against his chest. His lips found the moist white skin at the base of her neck and the breath rushed from Kate's lungs. "Castle." She turned to him. Even tortured as they were, her toes made no objection as she stretched upward, her open mouth meeting his. His hands cupped the shapely globes above her thighs, lifting her upward. She wrapped her legs around him and, his lips never leaving hers, he rotated them both, bracing her against the shower wall.

Her desire exploded as his growing heat pressed against her. She reached for him, stroking him to fullness, becoming ever more desperate as the pressure against her need grew. She writhed against him, their skins slick beneath the spray. As one, their breathing grew rapid and rough. Kate needed more. She needed Castle, all of Castle. She guided him, their joining urgent and deep. Drops flew from their bodies, splashing against the sides of the stall. The glass door rattled with their effort and steam rose even hotter from the heat of their skins. Kate could feel the inner sparks that signaled the oncoming waves of release, spreading within her, but the sudden climax rocked her to her core. She clung to Castle as the aftershocks left them both depleted and replete.

Castle panted as he retrieved his own towel and handed one from a rack to Kate. "If that's what happens when I rub your back, remind me to do it more often."

Kate wrapped lush terri around her wet but still vibrating body. "Castle, you have a deal."


	37. Chapter 37

Ian

Chapter 37

Kate dried off briskly. "Castle, between your pictures and my credit card number, I have a lot of work to do at the precinct."

"And I thought it was the guy who was supposed to run out after the deed," Castle quipped. "But I understand. I want to solve this thing as much as you do."

Their exchange was interrupted by the sound of Ian's voice calling as he entered the loft. "Dad are you here? Sci fi club was canceled cause our faculty adviser was sick so Mr. Warner brought me home."

"Be out in a minute," Castle called back, rushing to pull on some clothes. Kate hurriedly toweled as much moisture as she could from her hair then reached for the outfit she'd picked up at her apartment. Striding quickly to the kitchen. Castle greeted his son, who was already engaged in filling a plate with mini egg rolls to shove into the microwave oven.

Kate followed uncertainly. Ian looked up. "Oh hi, Detective Beckett."

An unruffled Carl Warner nodded at Kate and reported to Castle that nothing untoward had happened during Ian's time away from home. He quickly turned his attention to examining the output of the day's video.

"Uh, Detective Beckett and I had some things to take care of here, but we're going to the police station now," Castle announced. "Ian, do you need anything before I go?"

Ian took in Kate's still damp hair without comment. "No Dad, I'm fine. See you later."

* * *

Kate chewed her lip as Castle drove the short distance to the Twelfth. "Castle, I'm pretty sure Ian knew what we were doing. So did that bodyguard you hired."

"I'm sure you're right about both Ian and Carl Warner," Castle agreed. "I also know that Ian's okay with it. He's told me as much. And as far as Warner goes, other than any threats to my or Ian's safety, it's none of his business."

Kate blanched. "You talked to your son about having sex we me?"

"Kate, I wasn't comfortable with the discussion either," Castle admitted, "but Ian was the one who brought it up. He's a teenage boy. He's gonna think about sex. The wonder is that he spends any time thinking about anything else. Anyway he likes you and he thinks you're good for me. That doesn't mean I want to wave what we do as consenting, or might I even say enthusiastic, adults, under his nose. I don't think either one of us is ready for that. But what happened just now wasn't a problem for me or for Ian. I hope it wasn't one for you."

"I'm still processing that Castle," Kate confessed. "I prefer to keep my private business private."

It was Castle's turn for an eye roll as he pictured Kate in her feathers."Right."

* * *

Facial recognition identified the man Castle and Kate had been pursuing as one Jason Marx of Arlington Virginia, a large county just across the Potomac River from Washington D.C.. The car belonged to a Super PAC called "Future Forward," as did Marx's credit card. "A Super PAC," Castle groaned, "a Super PAC that launders drug money. By definition they're not supposed to have direct coordination with a candidate. That will make it tougher to track down whom Marx is actually working for."

"I think we can get a pretty good idea by looking at what they spend their money on, Castle," Kate reasoned. "But I think we'll do even better looking into Jason Marx. We look at his history, who he's worked for, who he's had contact with, a picture should emerge. You might even find out if your former girlfriend has ever heard of him," she snarked.

"She wasn't my girlfriend!" Castle protested. "But I'll ask her. And I can do some other research tonight. Marx is young enough so what he did in college and even high school should be on the web somewhere. I'll look for organizations he might have joined, political leanings, whatever pops."

"Good, Castle. I'll look into his finances," Kate decided. "Somewhere we'll find the breadcrumbs leading to the real boss.

* * *

Cory Jasper was at the loft when Castle returned bearing burgers from Remy's. He greeted Castle and informed him that Ian was in his room. Castle dropped the paper bag bearing dinner on the table and went up to see his son. Ian was drawing a warrior princess under a waterfall. Ian had given her comic book proportions, but other than that, she bore a resemblance to Kate, complete with strands of wet hair. Ian held the drawing up for his father to see. "This is Katrica. I sort of based her on Detective Beckett."

Castle regarded the figure in his son's sketch book. "I can see what you mean by sort of. If Kate was actually built like that, she'd hit herself in the eye every time she tried to walk, but you got the legs to a 'T'. They are about three miles long. Why'd you make her eyes green? Kate's are hazel."

"I know Dad, but they flash green when she gets excited, like when she's winning a battle in Terra Quest or the two of you are discussing the details of a case. I just thought I'd make them green all the time. It seems to fit her."

Castle considered Kate's reaction to Sofia Turner. "It does at that."

"Dad, was Detective Beckett upset that Mr. Warner and I walked in on you two this afternoon? She seemed to be."

"I think she was worried about upsetting you," Castle confided. "And she gets shy at the strangest times. She'll be fine. You are okay with it though, right?"

"Yeah Dad, I told you. So did you bring home dinner?"

"Of course," Castle declared. "Remy's burgers downstairs, whenever you're ready."

"I hope you got some for Mr. Jasper."

"You bet," Castle assured his son. "in Castle's Castle, no one goes hungry."

* * *

Leaning over his laptop, Castle pressed send. "That ought to keep Gina off my ass for a while," he muttered. Castle left a coded message for Sofia Turner, then began his research. He pressed his shortcut for Google and entered "Jason Marx." As he'd expected, their were millions of entries. Taking a guess on the timing, he added "graduated 1998." The field was winnowed. Then on a hunch, he added "essay." He started examining his hits. There was a Jason Marx who had written an essay protesting being forced to associate with gay students. "Figures," Castle thought, "what better way to guard the closet door than to diss the students who'd dared to open it." Marx was listed as having graduated from Faircroft in 1998 and wanting to pursue a career in political science. "Well what do you know? My old alma mater," Castle mused. He searched for images of a Jason Marx from Faircroft. He studied his hits and copied the clearest one. Then he brought up a program he and Ian liked to play with, that aged people's features. He ran his photo through, asking the program to add twelve years. He compared it to the photo he had taken of Marx, and judged it a pretty good match. "Wonder if old Principal Duncan is still there," he murmured. "He kept track of all the alumni so he could throw the achievements of anyone who did something great in our faces." A quick look at the school website told him his old nemesis was still behind a desk. In remembrance of hours of detention, Castle decided it would be wise to take Kate with him to his old stomping grounds if he wanted to pick up any useful information.


	38. Chapter 38

Ian

Chapter 38

Castle's cell phone signaled a response from Sofia Turner. The sultry voice oozed through the speaker. "Rick, twice in a week. Your new muse must really have you humping."

For a moment Castle wondered if Sofia had bugged his shower, before remembering that Carl Warner's men made regular sweeps for electronics. "Well if you mean we're making progress on the case Sofia, you're right," Castle retorted. "We've run into a character named Jason Marx, based in your neck of the woods. Ostensibly he works for a Super PAC called Future Forward."

"Future Forward," Sofia repeated. "They are definitely on the radar of our people who monitor international movement of funds. Are you assuming that they're serving as the laundromat for the drug money?"

"Bingo!" Castle replied. "It looks like Marx may be a courier. What we're still trying to figure out is who really needs their garments to appear sparkling white."

"Future Forward pumps a lot of money up to The Hill, Rick. They fancy themselves king makers and right now they have several princes. If you've seen any of the fairy tales they put out in their ads, they claim to be trying to bring back business to the U.S. by cutting regulations. Pretty standard political pap. What they are really trying to accomplish is quite different. They're setting up markets in some areas we consider unfriendly and they're trying to prevent any investigations of their dealings, by giving them a gloss of peace, love, and free trade. Unfortunately one of the commodities they would love to trade freely is slave labor."

"Charming," Castle commented sarcastically. "And who might the princes be?"

"Oh Rick, I can't make things too easy for you," Sofia teased. "Look for legislators with the tax cutting, cost cutting, get the government off your back agendas."

"Sofia," Castle grumbled, "that's about half of them."

"Yes," Sofia agreed, "but a lot fewer than that have exploratory committees and I'm guessing still fewer are connected to your Marx boy. You'll work it out Rick. It may even give you fodder for a book where Clara Strike can make another appearance. Just be careful. I'm not ready yet to lose my favorite author."

"Yeah," Castle muttered as they ended the call, "neither am I."

* * *

"Castle, are you really sure you need to take me with you to talk to your old principal?" Kate questioned. "Seems to me you'd do fine as an old alumnus, especially if the school thinks they can pry some money out of you."

"Kate, they don't have to pry. Faircroft gets my support, I fund the writing workshops for their students and coerce other Black Pawn authors into conducting them. But Principal Duncan has less than fond memories of me. I blew up a lab. Well, only part of a lab, the AP chem lab. I was nitrating an organic compound and I let the process run too long. Big boom. It was an accident, but he didn't see it that way. He would have expelled me, but Mother was riding high that year. She was up for a Tony. She threatened that if he did, she'd have her publicist plant stories that Faircroft was running an unsafe school, so he had to let me stay. It was not his happiest moment."

"Yeah Castle, I can see why you wouldn't be his favorite person. I imagine he's not too fond of your mother either," Kate guessed. "Alright, if he has any information on Marx, I'll see what I can do to charm it out of him."

* * *

Principal Duncan sagged. Over the years the carry-on bags beneath his eyes had turned to check-ins. The lines bracketing his mouth had deepened and his forehead furrowed. He reminded Kate of a bloodhound who'd been retired to spend his days napping on the porch. Still, his eyes had an alert gleam and his desk was equipped with the latest in electronic technology. "Detective Beckett, for the life of me I can't imagine why an esteemed member of the N.Y.P.D. would put up with a hack like Mr. Castle. It would seem waste of both your time and the taxpayers' money. However, I do try to keep up with the activities of our alumni, even limited successes such as your shadow. We are rather proud of Jason Marx. He is one of our scholarship student successes. He distinguished himself at Michigan State University. They do have an excellent political science department. He was summa cum laude, as I recall. He went on to George Washington University Law School and became a staffer for the late Senator Burnham. I believe now he's working behind the scenes in the political action arena."

"Have you any idea what his special areas of expertise are?" Kate inquired.

"Foreign commerce, I believe," Duncan replied. An alarm sounded on Duncan's computer. "You'll have to excuse me now, Detective Beckett, I have a meeting with our parent advisory board." He handed her a card. "This is my email. If you have any further questions, you can submit them."

* * *

"Wow, I feel like I just finished a month's detention," Castle remarked as he settled heavily into the passenger seat of Beckett's unit. "And he called me a hack! I'd like to hack him."

"Just put a lid on it, Castle," Kate counseled. "Despite his obvious dislike for you, he gave us some good information. Foreign commerce certainly tracks with what you got from your old lady friend, although I would guess even Principal Duncan would be horrified to find out what the merchandise is. And the reference to Senator Burnham may be even more helpful. If we look at just who's picked up his mantle, we'll find out who Marx is associating with."

Castle gave a little shudder. "I hope that won't involve watching C-span. I watched hours of that with Ian for a project he was doing last year. If their ratings were higher, the market for sleeping pills would plummet."

"We'll try to avoid that, Castle," Kate promised, pulling out of her parking spot.

Castle wiped imaginary sweat from his brow."Whew, dodged a bullet on that one. But hey, you were going to look into Marx's financials. Find anything juicy?"

Kate drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. "It's more what I didn't find, Castle. The man has almost no debt, just enough to keep up a credit rating. I looked into law schools at one point in my academic career, and George Washington is not cheap. For an out of state student, Marx's undergrad program wouldn't have been cheap either. Duncan said he was a scholarship student. That means his family isn't wealthy. He's not a jock, so no athletic scholarships and unless you're a total superstar, academic scholarships can leave some real holes. So where did the money come from?"

"I had some acquaintances in college who solved that particular problem by dealing drugs. Maybe Marx made his initial connections in New York, Perhaps that's how he got started in all this," Castle hypothesized. "It would certainly fit. He could have picked up the knowledge he needed to move right up the ladder. If Burnham was involved, then Marx could have had a place waiting for him. Kate, we don't just need to find out who Burnham's successors are. We should look into the late great man himself. My guess is if we start digging up his grave, there's gonna be one hell of a stench."


	39. Chapter 39

Ian

Chapter 39

Senator John Burnham's widow Ida lived in almost complete seclusion in Westchester New York. The house was surrounded by woods and reached by a rural road. Kate pulled up the drive and regarded the house. It rose three stories and sprawled over a large lot. Unlike most homes in the area, the feel was Southern rather than Northern. A porch with Greek style pillars ran across the front of the house, reminiscent of a plantation. Castle shuddered as he was reminded of what Sofia had said about slavery.

Kate had called ahead to make an appointment. Ida Burnham had not responded to Kate's call herself, but a Myrna Breslaw, who identified herself as Ida's companion, told Kate that she could arrive anytime in the afternoon, but not to expect too much. As she put it, Ida Burnham's thoughts had been "scattered" since her husband's death.

The door was answered by a man in his fifties, graying at the temples and dressed in formal attire. He identified himself as Mr. Forrest, the butler. Forrest led the way to a library where a white haired woman sat in a brocade covered wing chair reading a large print edition of a romance novel. Castle quickly took in her features. Her skin showed the fragility of age. Her cheeks had been rouged and her lips covered in bright red lipstick. The slightly thinning hair had been carefully curled. She looked up as Forrest entered. "Detective Beckett and Mr. Castle, Madam," Forrest announced.

Ida's wrinkles deepened as she smile. "Mr Castle? Richard Castle? Oh yes, I see you are. I recognize that handsome face from your pictures on my books. Your stories certainly do get the heart pumping. And a lady detective! How exciting! But I can't imagine why you would want to see me." She waved toward two vintage chairs. "Please sit down."

Kate perched carefully on the edge of her seat. "Actually Mrs. Burnham, we came to ask about a man who worked for your husband, a Jason Marx."

"Jason Marx," Ida repeated, pressing her lips together and staring at the ceiling as if trying to make sense of the name. "Oh yes, I do remember him. Nice young man although little..." She wiggled her body as if she was prancing. "You know. Not that I have anything against that," she added hurriedly. "Yes, he worked for John, right until my dear husband passed." Ida's eyes moistened. "I still miss him, you know."

Castle got up to hand her his handkerchief. "Of course you do," he soothed."

Ida's lips creaked into a smile. "You know, you really don't seem the gadabout the papers say you are, Mr. Castle. And you are much more handsome than your picture. What were we talking about?"

"Jason Marx, Mrs. Burnham," Kate prompted gently.

"Oh yes," Ida recalled. "Nice young man. He went to work for John right out of school."

"What did he do for the senator?" Kate inquired.

"Well I never really understood John's work," Ida confided. "This and that. I know when John had to be in Washington, Jason took care of some of John's business in New York. I have no idea what it was except..." Her lips curled in disgust. "Some of it was in Washington Heights, the ugly part. "I suppose John sent Jason there to help the people there. John was always trying to help. He was a wonderful man." She dabbed at her eyes with Castle's handkerchief.

Kate was pretty sure she wasn't going to get much else from Ida Burnham, but she offered her card. "Mrs Burnham, I would love to hear about anything you can remember that your husband and Jason Marx were doing together. If you think of anything, anything at all, please give me a call."

Ida nodded tearily. "Yes dear, I will try to remember to do that."

"Kate," Castle wondered, as she drove back to the city, "do you think Burnham could have been running a drug operation without his wife knowing about it?"

"Castle," Kate remarked, "I think Ida Burnham knew what she wanted to know, but the visit was worth it to know how close Jason Marx was to Burnham. He was up to his neck in everything Burnham did from the very beginning. That would make him not just a courier, but a major player. He might even have been responsible for choosing the princes your old girlfriend told you about."

"She wasn't my girlfriend," Castle reiterated, "But she did say to look into pols with exploratory committees. That shouldn't be that tough. It would probably take about five minutes perusing back issues of The Hill. I can probably do it on my phone right now." Castle pulled his phone from his pocket and began to make a search while he continued to talk. "They'd have to make public announcements," he added. "But would cost a hell of a lot of money to get the ball rolling. They couldn't get the funds publicly filtered to them from a Super PAC. There would have to be another route, one straight from drug money via Jason Marx. We just have to find it. Okay, I've got one already. I should have our list long before we get back to the Twelfth. Oh wait!" Castle consulted his watch. "You'd better drop me at the loft. Ian has a laser tag battle scheduled for this afternoon. I'm trying to keep his schedule as normal as possible."

Kate smiled at the mental image of Ian and his friends running around the loft in brightly lit electronic gear. "Are you the referee, Castle?"

Castle snorted. "Referee? No. I have a thousand points. I'm the grand master. The winner gets the honor of competing against me - also the privilege of choosing the toppings on the pizza."

Kate suppressed a laugh. "A thousand points is impressive, Castle," she acknowledged. "I wonder how you'd do on the firing range."

"I thought you already knew that," Castle teased. "Oh, you meant the kind of gun that fires bullets. Kate, I think you might find I'd surprise you. I have very steady hands."

The laugh burst through. "Castle, that part I know."

* * *

Castle took a moment to breathe after the last of Ian's friends had departed. The list of senators and congressmen he'd developed for Kate contained five names, three senators and two congressmen. He had told Kate he'd research the first, Senator Winter, that night. Castle made a fresh pot of coffee and took a steaming mug to his office.

Castle stared at the photograph of a large African American displayed on the screen of his laptop. T. P. Winter looked friendly. His eyes twinkled behind the dark frames of his glasses but with the hint of toughness stemming from his Chicago origins. Castle had yet to find an article specifying where in Chicago the senator had grown up, but Castle doubted that it had been in a comfortable neighborhood. He was relatively young, his official bio noted that he was born in 1974. It was obvious that he enjoyed eating. Castle wondered what else he enjoyed. Castle explored further. Winter was an independent and caucused with the Democrats. He was a huge booster of social programs, education, and reforming prison sentences. Rather than preaching budget cutting, he wanted to pour money into the infra-structure, to create jobs. Castle carefully examined the list of proposed legislation on the Winter website. "Hell, I'd vote for this guy," he muttered to himself, but continued searching for further information. He could find no connection with New York or any kind of drug activities except for Winter's advocacy of treatment versus incarceration for users. He was the polar opposite of the type of politico Sofia had described. It also seemed very unlikely Winter would have had anything to do with Burnham. Castle rubbed his eyes and decided he could cross Winter off the list. That left four more to go: Roum, Hicks, Hawley, and Creasey.


	40. Chapter 40

Ian

Chapter 40

Kate stared at the screen on her desk at the precinct. The number of hits citing Senator Christine Roum was daunting. She was known for her large body and even larger hats and even had a cartoon character named after her. For much of her first term in the senate she had gone largely unnoticed. But she had thrown in her lot with the extreme right wing and steadily picked up air time on radio talk shows, eventually graduating to the conservative cable news.

She seemed to be no boon to her gender, calling for the greatest restriction of rights that could squeak by the Supreme court and a reconsideration of decisions that granted any rights to women at all. Websites and twitter accounts had sprung up claiming that she was a disgraced evangelist in drag. There were almost daily demands for her birth certificate. Kate brought up an image on her screen and enlarged it. She could see where the claim might be believable. Aside from the six foot plus frame, Christine sported bushy brows and the shadow of a mustache. Christine's positions on budgetary matters would also warm right wing hearts. Ostensibly the daughter of a rich family, she had used some of her wealth to buy a controlling interest in an internet start-up. When they went public, the board elected her CEO, a position she constantly touted as expertise in financial matters. She advocated for tax cuts for every bracket except the lower ones and was constantly putting forth plans to cut social services for the 'takers."

Kate shuddered at what her mother would have thought of the senator. Christine Roum was everything Johanna Beckett had spent her too short life fighting against. What Johanna would have despised, made Christina Roum an ideal suspect. She had made no secret of her presidential ambitions and she had been a protegé of John Burnham. Christine was often entertained at the Burnham home and despite her unfeminine appearance, rumors had flown that Ida Burnham had been jealous of the attentions Christine had garnered from her husband.

The elevator doors opened, disgorging Castle, carrying two large cups from the local Java Hut. He handed one to Kate, regarding her expression. "You look disturbed. Not finding a suspect?"

"Oh no, I have one," Kate replied. "But she's what's disturbing. If she is guilty, I'd like to shoot her myself."

Castle scanned the information on Kate's screen. "I can see why. Not exactly an advocate for warrior princesses, and she does match Sofia's description of pols to look at. With Jason Marx being Burnham's number one guy and Roum being around the Burham house all the time, it certainly all fits. And I pretty much eliminated Winter. How about Hicks, Hawley and Creasey? Shouldn't we still look at them. Cover all our bases?"

"Yeah we should, Castle." Kate agreed. "And there might be more than one suspect. Suppose Burnham had a cadre and they'll push whoever can make the best hit with the voters, into the top spot."

"That's a chilling thought," Castle remarked. "You want to split them up? Much as I love your company, I have my resources at my loft. I can go work there now and then maybe we can put put our heads together tonight. Ian's tutor will be holding a study group and Ian will be out for most of the evening. We can use my big screen undisturbed."

"Sounds good, Castle. From what I've seen, there's probably the most stuff to wade through on Hawley. He's served the longest. If you take him, I can take Hicks and Creasey. They're both pretty young. We should come out about even. And you've been feeding me all the time, I can bring dinner. You like Thai?"

"Love it!" Castle responded, "but Ian doesn't, or at least not most of it. He's not a fan of hot, unless you count the way he draws his heroines. I, on the other hand am very fond of heat. So, that" Castle added, wiggling his eyebrows, "would make it just perfect for us to have in his absence."

"I'll keep your predilections in mind, Castle," Kate promised, with a saucy upturn to her lips.

* * *

Kate showed up at the loft with cardboard cartons in hand, to find that Castle had set the table with china, linen napkins, candles and engraved chopsticks. He'd also brewed a pot of fragrant tea. "Castle, the table looks beautiful!"

"Not as beautiful as the woman who'll be sitting at it," Castle smiled, pulling out a chair for her.

"Well you're in a good mood," Kate observed. "The way you're smirking, you must have found something interesting. Hawley?"

"I'll be getting to him, but I have a contact who is very into the more sordid side of the Washington rumor mill. She's been a great source for the more kinky hijinks in my Derrick Storm books. She just got back from a press junket to some of the early primary states and she had some very interesting dish on Roum, Marx, and the Burnhams, and it had nothing to do with drugs or politics."

Kate dumped the contents of her cartons into bowls Castle had set out. "Castle that sounds more like the National Enquirer than the Washington Post. Considering your own experience with the media, do you find whatever your friend told you, credible?"

"Actually, considering what comes out of the beltway on a regular basis, it's pretty mild. At least no one underage is involved. It seems that Ida Burnham's tears were of the distinctly crocodile variety. Ida and John both had, shall I say other interests, and while they didn't go for underage, they definitely went for younger. Ida Burnham was anything but jealous of Christine Roum. They were extremely close. Apparently Ida enjoyed scaling heights. And John Burnham's relationship with Jason Marx was both personal and professional. It was all very convenient."

Kate's lip curled as an image of Ida Burnham and Christine Roum flashed unbidden before Kate's eyes . "Eww! It will take a lot to erase that visual."

Castle used his chop sticks to pick up a morsel from a bowl and held it out to her. "You just need some replacement spice. But Kate, think about it, sexual orientations aside, two generations of Washington power using the drug trade to fund their view for the future of the country. The story practically writes itself, especially if it ends with the intrepid detective and her plucky writer sidekick initiating the downfall of the power seekers' villainous dreams."

"Castle, plucky sidekicks end up dead." Kate warned.

"Or turned into really cool villains like the Winter Soldier," Castle countered, "but our intrepid detective can have a plucky writer partner. Kate, if news of the sexual adventures of the Burnham family leaked, tales of drug deals and political maneuverings must have too. There have to be people out there who know."

"That sort of begs the question about why your former muse wouldn't have said anything about it. Doesn't the CIA love to collect that sort of intelligence as leverage."

"You're right Kate, they do. They often use honey traps to set up situations they they can use to squeeze potential assets. Sofia's always been a game player. I think maybe she's been playing one with me. I just can't figure out what her motive might be."

"Castle, maybe she just enjoys manipulating you," Kate speculated. "Or maybe she's jealous."

Castle used his thumb to wipe a drop of sauce from Kate's lip. "Projecting a little, Detective Beckett? Still, unless it was a violation of national security, she didn't hold out on me like that before. Something strange is going on.


	41. Chapter 41

Ian

Chapter 41

Kate sipped at her tea. "Castle, so now that you've given me all the new dirt on Roum and Marx, what did you find on Hawley?"

"Kate I think he may be in it too, just in a different way," Castle offered. "He's a member of the Finance Committee. Since 9/11 there are all sorts of new rules set up to prevent laundering of money, as protection against terrorists. He's been in the right spot to set up whatever loopholes Burnham and company and Future Forward would need to get around them. He'd also be the person to help them navigate them. He's especially skilled at greasing the wheels to take money overseas and bring it back clean and tax free."

"Castle," Kate wondered, "Wouldn't that also be the kind of thing that would be on the CIA's radar?"

"It should be, especially if it compromises the safety of the United States. And they would keep their eyes on public officials who deal in large sums of money and seem to be really out there ideologically. Some of those crazies want nukes. But I doubt Hawley fits in that category.

"He isn't quite the right winger the others seem to be." Castle continued. "He's a pragmatist. He does whatever is necessary and votes for whatever is necessary to meet his own goals and those of the donors who support him. There are a lot of those, and many of them were involved in the kind of financial smoke and mirrors that led to the recession. Somehow he helped them keep their heads above water. He's been a very useful ally to the leadership of a number of companies that deserved to go under, but were bailed out. So if he's working on the destruction of the country, he doesn't need nuclear materials. A financial meltdown would be even more effective.

"His family life is pretty pedestrian. He has three kids. Two of them are in college. One's already gone on to law school. Unlike most children of the middle class though, they will graduate without any debt. Considering that senators only make about $174.000 a year, that's a neat trick. Money is flowing into his pockets as well as his campaign coffers. Some of it some from some hefty speaking fees. The origin of the rest of it is more obscure. It could very well be his cut for easing the way of Burnham's operation. Or it could just be old fashioned graft. What about Hicks and Creasey?"

"Well Creasey is sort of a young lion superstar," Kate recounted. "He hasn't even been in the Senate a full term, but he made a speech at the convention that got him noticed. He was very charismatic. Now he's on the road to the presidency. He has quite a female constituency. Supposedly, his wife is not crazy about that. He doesn't seem to have problems raising money. He gets a lot of donations from small donors. I saw some jokes that the women see his face and hit the donate button. I don't see it myself, but then I like a guy who can swing a sword at an East Mountain Goblin."

Castle bounced proudly in his chair. "Nice to know. So I take it he's not very high on our list?"

"No, Beckett confirmed. "He has no reason to throw in with the Burnham gang. But Hicks is another story. She's on the path to the presidency too, but it hasn't been exactly smooth. Her campaign manager was ripping off her campaign, skimming. Hicks had no idea until she was hit with a pile of unpaid bills. She and her husband were about to put their house up as collateral to pay them off, then suddenly they had some large donations and she was fine again. From that point on, she was doing a tap dance, but she kept moving to the right side of the stage. She shifted position on a whole raft of issues, especially tax law. But even though most of her recent moves favor the one percent, she has kind of a average Joe feel to her that makes her popular with the blue collar constituency. More to the point, the lower class white neighborhoods where she's been currying favor are the same ones where the heroin problem has been escalating. There are a couple of those not too far from here, in New Jersey."

"Field trip?" Castle queried.

"You want to go, Castle? I was thinking we could hit some of the hangouts. Mess up your hair a little and wear one of those plaid shirts you like, forget about being a member of the grammar police, and you could fit in."

"I'm not sure whether to be flattered or insulted," Castle responded.

"Probably both, Castle. You have anything with Ian tomorrow?"

Castle pulled out his phone to check the notes on his calendar. "I was supposed to, a student art expo. But the roof leaked in the gallery where they were supposed to have it and it's been rescheduled to next month. Cory Jasper or Carl Warner will be here with Ian. I'm all yours, Detective."

Kate ran a hand up his thigh. "Um. Then just how long do we have before Ian and his guard show up tonight?"

Castle checked his watch. "We have a good hour. We could make it very good."

Kate licked her lips. "Better still, let's make it very bad."

Cory Jasper passed Kate leaving the loft just as he was bringing Ian back. If he noticed that she had a couple of grains of rice in her hair, he never gave a sign of it. Ian was less subtle, his mouth pulling upward on it's own accord, but he limited himself to wishing the detective a good night."

The next morning, Castle chose his clothes carefully. He picked a tartan shirt that had grown threadbare enough that he had been tempted to donate it to the school as a paint smock, until Kate had used it as a cover-up one night. Now every time he looked at it, he pictured miles of beautiful leg peeping out from beneath and he couldn't imagine parting with it. He put it over the kind of Henley he'd grown to appreciate watching episodes on MacGyver and paired it with well worn jeans and shoes he used for school walking trips. There wasn't much he could do with his custom cut except brush it back to disguise the signature lock of hair that normally fell over his forehead.

* * *

Except when she'd had nothing on but the shirt he was now sporting, Castle had never seen Kate look as casual as she did when he slid in beside her. Her hair was pulled back in a messy braid that immediately reminded him of the night before. He shifted in his seat, adjusting his jeans around the sudden tightness. It could be a long trip,

Kate turned the radio to an oldies station and began to sing along. Marveling at the low caress of her rich alto, Castle filled in with back-up do wops. Two hours later when they arrived at their first stop, Benson's Bowling Alley, the journey had seemed much too short. "Castle, are you ready to play a game or two?" Kate asked.

Castle gazed hungrily at the errant strands that had worked their way loose from her braid as she drove, now framing her face and calling to his fingers. He lightly pushed one back behind her ear. "Bowling?"

Kate made a quick grab at the rounded firmness beneath his back pocket. "For now Castle, rolling the balls down the alley will have to do."


	42. Chapter 42

Ian

Chapter 42

Even in Castle's company, Kate didn't enter the bowling alley unnoticed. Appreciative eyes turned in her direction as she and Castle rented shoes and found an empty lane. Castle noted with a mix of pride and jealousy the attention she drew when she bent over to aim her ball. "Kate," he whispered as she came back to him after handily picking up a spare, "there's a guy over there who choked on his nachos looking at your ass. By the time we finish this game, we may need to employ the Heimlich maneuver."

"Jealous Castle?" Kate teased. "It's probably better if for this trip we're just friends, or at least look that way. Some of these guys may want to approach me and spout off."

"'Lets be friends,' the three saddest words in the English language," Castle lamented. "Still, nothing loosens a guy's tongue like a beautiful woman, unless it's a beautiful woman and alcohol."

"We'll get to that too, Castle. They sell beer here. When we finish our game we can set ourselves up in the snack bar and see what happens. Just remember," Kate cautioned, "no puppy dog eyes. If you touch me, just slap me on the back or something. If someone asks, we grew up on the same block, like brother and sister."

"After yesterday it would be pretty perverted of me to think of you as my sister," Castle smirked, "but I will do my fiction crafter's best."

Kate watched Castle smugly pick up his third strike. "You're pretty good, Castle," Kate marveled. "I wouldn't have expected it. I would have thought your competitive spirit would be much more likely to involve an X-box."

"Not exactly my choice of sport," Castle conceded, "But Ian was in occupational therapy for a while and his therapist thought bowling might be good for building strength, along with hand-eye coordination, so I took him. It was also an excuse to consume large quantities of junk food. And a lot of bowling alleys also have video games. We had a good time. If either one of us has a lot of excess energy to work off, we still go sometimes. You're no slouch either. How did you learn to play? Did your parents take you?"

Kate shook her head. "No, my father's sports passion is baseball, more for the statistics than the actual mechanics of it. He took me to games. We still go sometimes, too. My mother was into ice skating. We went to the rinks at Rockefeller Center or Central Park. She tried to teach me, but I hadn't really grown into my legs yet. I was about as graceful as a rhinoceros. I still have my skates though. When I look at them I can see her smiling at me. I learned to bowl as part of a police league. My original training officer insisted on it."

"Probably the only way he could appreciate your ass without committing sexual harassment," Castle speculated.

"I don't think so, Castle, he had a boyfriend. I think he was trying to get me to be part of the gang. I was so focused on my mother's murder, it was very hard for me to loosen up," Kate confessed, "still is sometimes."

Castle carefully avoided mentioning Kate's performance at The Thicket, just saying, "We'll get you there."

Kate deliberately chose a table in the busiest part of the snack bar. It was just lunch time, but beer was already flowing to accompany weekly gripe sessions. The air took on a bluish tinge as complaints flew about low wages, high prices, stupid bosses, and generally getting screwed over by the system. After a few beers, one man stuffed coins into what looked like an old fashioned juke box but was in fact a digital player. A country whine spilled into the room and he lurched up to Kate to request a dance. Stomping on every instinct he had, Castle just raised an eyebrow at Kate, who nodded and rose to join her new partner as he shambled around the scuffed linoleum that passed for a dance floor. At first his complaints sounded like all the others in the room. He told Kate his name was Joe and he couldn't afford a new truck; he deserved a raise and he couldn't get it. Kate listened sympathetically, asking questions and urging him to go on. Finally she hit pay dirt. He told her about his best friend Mike who'd gotten hooked on the heroin that had begun to pour into what he referred to as "our town." His friend had lost his job, his wife, and finally his life. Joe told Kate how much he missed him and that he was going to vote for Steph Hicks because she understood the problem.

Kate asked him if he knew where Mike had gotten his deadly drugs. "It was way too easy," Joe explained, the rims of his eyes darkening to a deep red. "The dealers are everywhere! I even saw one show up on the edges of the crowd the last rally Steph Hicks had. I wouldn't be surprised if one showed up in the parking lot here at Benson's. They're like roaches, popping out of the walls. I saw more than one over by Mega Mart. Called the cops too. They didn't do nuthin'. Dealers must be greasing them. Can you believe the nerve?"

Kate laid her head on Joe's shoulder. "Some folks will do anything for a fuckin' dollar."

"Damn right!" Joe agreed. "Hey I don't suppose you could lose your friend there. I know a place with good drinks stronger than beer."

Kate stared up, a longing look in her eyes. "Damn, I wish I could Joe, but Ricky over there, we've known each other since we were three. He was hurt in Iraq and sometimes his eyes go a little strange on him. Last time he tried to drive, he put his truck into a tree, smashed himself up pretty good too, and now his problem's even worse. I promised his mama I'd take care of him, and you know, I can't break a promise to his mama."

"Yeah I get it," Joe acknowledged. "can't let Ricky's mama down." Joe ended the dance with a sad twirl and took Kate back to her table. "Well you take care, little lady." He looked at Castle. "You take care too, Ricky. Thank you for your service."

"Come on, Ricky," Kate said loudly as Joe walked away. "I promised I'd get you home early. Your sister's coming over."

"Sure Katie," Castle agreed, playing along. He followed her out to her car. "What was that about?"

"Sad-faced Joe just told me where to find the local pusher," Kate explained. "Check your phone and find out where the Mega Mart is."

Castle did as Kate asked him and they were soon on their way to scope out a minion of the local drug trade. You must have made up some kind of story," Castle surmised. "You made me a soldier?"

"Well the way the bumpers are plastered with American flags around here it seemed like a good bet to explain why I'd be hanging with you," Kate explained.

"Maybe I should give you a hand at writing the next chapter of my book," Castle wondered. "You seem to have a knack for spinning a convincing tale."

"I think I'd have a long way to go before matching your gritty prose, Castle, but thanks. Now let's just see what we can pick up at the big box store."


	43. Chapter 43

Ian

Chapter 43

Kate surveyed the Mega Mart parking lot. It was crowded, but not as crowded as it might have been on a Saturday afternoon. As might be expected, the cars clustered at the entrance and exit of the store, leaving a lot of open space at the edges.

Castle pointed to a food truck, parked well away from the major grouping of vehicles. "That's interesting. The sign says burgers. There's a stream of people walking across the lot to get to them, even though Mega Marts have complete food courts which would be easier to reach. Mega Mart burgers are actually surprisingly good, probably because they can piggy-back on the meat shipments into the store. Fries tend to be a little soggy, but the drinks are mega."

"And your point is, Castle?" Kate prodded.

"People aren't going to that truck just for the burgers. They're looking for a special sauce."

"Let's go see how special it is," Kate suggested. "And while we're at it, we can pick up the license plate special."

The two of them ambled across the lot to the truck. The menu was short, consisting of hamburgers, cheeseburgers, fries, canned drinks and something just listed as the special. Castle ordered a giant cheeseburger for himself, a hamburger for Kate, two orders of unimpressive fries, a Dr. Pepper and a cherry soda. "What's the special?" he casually inquired.

The scruffily bearded man taking Castle's order, swallowed nervously. "Um sorry, we're out of it."

"That's too bad," Castle replied. He pointed to Kate. "See my lady over there? She's always looking to try something that will give her a little lift, you know?"

Scruffy gave Castle an appraising stare as Castle showed him several bills he held in his hand. "Well I can check, sometimes there's an extra one under the counter." He bent down, coming up clutching a plastic packet in his hand. "That will be a hundred and fifty bucks, plus twenty two for your lunch."

"Wow," Castle exclaimed, trying to look as if he was having second thoughts. "That's a lot..." He looked back at Kate.

"Babe," she called, "You getting me what I need?"

"Sure baby," he responded hurriedly. "Coming right up." He pushed the bills across the counter. Scruffy took a few moments at the grill and the fryer then stuffed the food and the packet into a paper bag and handed it to Castle. "You and your lady have a good time."

"I've got our evidence, did you get the plate?" Castle asked as he returned to Kate.

Kate patted her cell phone. "Got it. It's already running. I also took video of your boy."

"You going to call in the locals?" Castle asked. "I did just make a drug buy."

"Remember what I told you I heard from Mike?" Kate reminded him. "They're giving this guy a pass. And we want to know who he's working for, so we wait and follow him when he leaves. We can call the Jersey Troopers later to turn over the drugs."

"Well if we're going to do that," Castle suggested as he walked beside her back to her car, "we might as well eat. I watched him making the burgers and he did a pretty good job for a despicable drug dealer. I think the food from the truck may actually be better than Mega Mart's."

Kate raised skeptical brows. "Castle, you want a burger after the nachos you ordered at the snack bar at Benson's?"

"You were too busy dancing and I was too busy watching you, to eat them," Castle confided. "Besides, it looked like they would only be made edible by a generous consumption of beer. These are definitely better. Unless you just want to spend the time making out?"

Kate looked back at the burger truck. "Castle I think both that and eating are going to have to wait. It looks like he's getting ready to take off."

Scruffy closed the service window and a few moments later exhaust issued from the back of the vehicle. Kate started her car. The truck had surprising good pick up for such a large vehicle and it took some expert driving on Kate's part to follow it. It stuck to surface streets, forcing her to stay well back to avoid detection. The bulky vehicle followed a meandering route that eventually ended at a warehouse on the outskirts of town, where it pulled in through a roll-up door that closed behind it. "Now what?" Castle asked as Kate parked at the building across the road.

Kate checked a message on her phone. "The plate was stolen. That's a dead end." She reached across Castle to pull a pair of binoculars out of the glove compartment. "Now we watch to see who else shows up - or leaves. We could eat the burgers now too."

Castle reached into the back seat for the bag, now cold and covered in grease. His lips pulled back in distaste. "I think I'll pass."

The stake out didn't take long. A car pulled into the lot surrounding the warehouse and a woman got out. She walked confidently up to a door, punched a code on a keypad, and entered as soon as the lock released. Air whistled through Kate's lips. "God, Castle, it's Stephanie Hicks."

"Can you call someone now?" Castle demanded. "I mean after all, she just went in there with a proven drug dealer. She's a possible presidential candidate and she could be in trouble, right?"

Kate smiled mischievously. "You're right Castle. I have no jurisdiction here and I've just seen a public figure put herself in imminent danger." She picked up her cell phone.

* * *

Out of professional courtesy, the New Jersey State Troopers let Kate sit in as they questioned Stephanie Hicks. Castle, however, was consigned to watch through the mirror. "Ms. Hicks," Captain Beecher began, "you were found in a building with large salable quantities of heroin as well as weighing and packaging equipment. What were you doing there?"

"It was all a giant misunderstanding," Hicks insisted. "I had a meeting with a group of supporters. I simply went to the wrong address."

"Wrong address?" Kate repeated. "You've got to be able to come up with something better than that. If you discovered you were in the wrong place, why didn't you leave?"

"I was about to, when the officers showed up," Hicks claimed, rubbing her palms against skirt.

"Um hm," Kate responded, "and how did you know the code that got you in the door? Lucky guess?"

Hicks crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I want a lawyer."

Captain Beecher nodded. "Yes, I'm sure you do."

"Kate," Castle wondered when she left the interrogation room, "how did you explain to Captain Beecher how we came to buy heroin from that burger truck?"

"I told him the truth, up to a point, Castle. We were checking out a lead peripheral to multiple murders. I was told about the drug sales and heard the suspicions that the local cops were on the take. So when you got a side of heroin with our burgers, we decided to follow. I think he chose to believe me."

"And what is going to happen to Stephanie Hicks?" Castle queried. "Is this bust going to help our case?"

Kate chewed her lip in thought. "We'll have to see, Castle. The drug connection will dash any presidential hopes she has, for sure. I'm willing to bet her arrest has already been leaked to multiple blogs, ZNN, and who knows where else. But if she wants to stay out of jail, she's going to have to cooperate big time. That may help us. That may help us a lot.


	44. Chapter 44

Ian

Chapter 44

Castle let himself into the loft, garnering a nod from Cory Jasper, who sat at the table studying the video feeds from the building. It was late, and Castle suspected his son would be asleep, but if he wasn't, Castle didn't want to let the end of the day go by without at least saying good night. Castle mounted the stairs, his legs stiff from so many hours spent in Kate's unit. Light spilled from Ian's slightly open door. Castle knocked softly.

"Dad, you're home!" Ian called to him, the pitch of his voice rising with excitement. "I've been working on this all day. I wanted to show you." Castle pushed the door the rest of the way open as Ian held up a large piece of Bristol board showing several panels of two people sitting in a car. "See Dad, it's you and Detective Beckett - or a version of you and Detective Beckett - on stake out."

Castle examined his son's rendering. Kate's counterpart's proportions had been reduced enough to fit behind the wheel, but were still impressive. Castle had been drawn more realistically, with his characteristic lock of hair falling over his forehead. But he looked more like Derrick Storm: bigger, with wider shoulders. "Nice. A stake out was part of what we were doing today, but it got more exciting than that."

"Yeah?" Ian grinned expectantly. "Did you catch a bad guy?"

"A bad guy and a badder girl," Castle responded, "but it was really just a way to get whomever is running the whole mess. Still it felt good."

"Was Detective Beckett happy with what happened?" Ian wondered.

Castle nodded slowly, a smile ghosting his lips as he remembered the heat of a kiss he and Kate had shared before they had parted for the night. "She was. I really think she was."

* * *

Eyes still closed on Sunday morning, Castle reached out an arm to grab his buzzing cell phone from his bedside table. Cracking his lids enough to view the screen, he thumbed the speaker. Kate's voice sparkled through. "Castle, Stephanie Hicks' attorney has been in negotiations all night long with multiple agencies. In exchange for a walk on her involvement with the drug ring, she's going to spill everything she knows about the Burnham's operation including about Marx and Roum. There's going to be a meeting at the office of Elizabeth Westerman at five o'clock this afternoon."

Castle rubbed his eyes and pulled himself up against the headboard of his bed. "Wait. Who? Where?"

"Oh sorry Castle, with all the research you do I though you'd know. Elizabeth Westerman is the deputy from the Attorney General's office for the area that includes New York, New Jersey, and D.C.. That puts the murders, the drug trade, the political machinations all under one umbrella. I'll be sitting in on everything and they're willing to let you watch on video since you helped bring in Hicks. Can you make it? I'm texting you the address. It's in Manhattan."

Much as he wanted to give an immediate yes, Castle consulted the schedule on his phone. His stomach twisted. He and Ian were scheduled for lunch on Long Island with Sheila Blaine, Ian's maternal grandmother. Sheila had never been fond of Castle, feeling that writing was not a reliable profession and that he and Kyra had married at too young an age. And despite everything the doctors had said to the contrary, she held Castle responsible for Kyra's death. She also blamed Castle's supposed lack of discipline for Ian's difficulties in school, refusing to believe the boy had a true disability. But as much as she hated Castle, she clung tightly to Ian as her one remaining connection to her late daughter. She demanded regular visits with Ian and Castle did his best to oblige her. Except for feeling smothered, Ian often enjoyed the visits, viewing his grandmother as a good cook. He also enjoyed looking at the massive collection of photographs his grandmother had of a mother he couldn't remember. Still, Ian didn't like hearing his grandmother lash out at his father and he never wanted to stay long. If Castle and Ian could make it out of Sheila's home by two or even three o'clock, Castle stood a good chance of reaching the site of Hicks' disclosures, on time.

* * *

"Tired, Dad?" Ian asked as Castle drove up the Long Island Expressway with one of Carl Warner's men following in a car behind. "You're quiet."

"Just thinking," Castle replied. "I'm wondering what Kate and I are going to hear this afternoon - if we make it back to the city in time."

"Hey, don't worry about it. If Grandma Blaine goes on too long, I'll tell her I'm sick and need to go home." Ian grabbed his stomach, doubled over, and made retching sounds.

"Very convincing," Castle responded with admiration. "I don't think you'll have to push it that far though. Oh, that's our off ramp."

Castle pulled up in front of a sprawling ranch style home. Carl's operative parked behind him to watch and wait. Sheila Blaine always required that the grounds be meticulously groomed, and had heaped enough abuse on gardeners that she went through a steady stream of them. The latest one seemed very talented at his job. The lawn was bright green and perfectly mowed. The shrubbery had been cut into pleasing shapes and a new cutting garden graced part of the front yard. Castle decided to use the well manicured image as a pleasing front for the home of the villainess in his book.

Sheila Blaine answered the door in a wrinkle-free apron. Carefully hugging Ian and throwing a glare at Castle, she waved them into the dining room, where the table was set as if an army was about to be served. The roast could easily have fed a family of eight. One bowl was heaped with mashed potatoes and another one with glazed carrots. A Turine was full of tomato basil soup, and chopped liver appetizers were on small plates beside each of four settings.

"Are you expecting another guest, Sheila?" Castle inquired.

"Oh, she's already here. She's just freshening up." Sheila waved a hand toward the guest bathroom in the nearby hallway. As if summoned, a teenage girl emerged. Her blond hair was perfectly curled, and her nails painted with a popular blue shade. Her jeans were the newest cut and topped with a trendy shirt. Castle saw a tiny burn on the girl's finger, he recognized from his days with Gina as caused by a curling iron. The other guest hadn't just been doing a touch-up. "Caitlin dear," Sheila called. "Come and meet Ian."

Ian stared awkwardly before sticking out a hand. The hand Caitlin extended in return was soft, white, and limp enough to be disquieting.

"Oh, and this is Ian's father, Mr. Castle." Sheila's lips drew back and she sniffed as if at a bad odor. "Alright, everyone at the table before the au jus gels. Ian, you're next to Caitlin and Rick, you're on the other side."

Ian squirmed uncomfortably in his chair as Caitlin sat too close. "Caitlin is the granddaughter of my friend Mitzy," Sheila explained. "Mitzy and I were talking and we were just sure that Ian and Caitlin would get along."

"That was very thoughtful of you, Sheila," Castle commented dryly.

Caitlin smeared chopped liver on a cracker and turned to Ian, "Did you see _Celebrity CEO_ last night?"

Ian shook his head but Caitlin continued. "They finally got rid of that stupid old man, Stan Lee." Ian's eyes flashed angrily at her words, but Caitlin seemed oblivious. Castle sent his son a cautionary look look and Ian just jammed a cracker into his mouth. "I can't believe they kept him around this long," Caitlin went on. "The guy insists on cameos in all the superhero movies. I mean all those great ripped bodies and then we have to look at him. Eww."

Caitlin chattered through out the meal, blithely indicting almost everything Ian held nerdfully dear. By the time Sheila brought out the lemon cake she'd made for dessert, Ian was sure that if he told his grandmother he felt sick, he wouldn't be lying. It turned out not to be necessary. Caitlin received a call on her cell phone from the captain of her cheerleading squad, informing her that a rival squad had somehow stolen one of their routines and that there was an emergency meeting to come up with a new one. She told Caitlin she'd be there to pick her up in fifteen minutes."

Castle expressed his regrets at Caitlin's misfortune and suggested that he and Ian should be heading out as well. Sheila made no protest.

* * *

"Dad, I can't believe that Grandma Blaine tried to match me up with Caitlin," Ian moaned as Castle drove back to the city, with Ian's guardian following. "Caitlin hates Stan Lee! She thinks video games are stupid. If Grandma had to try to fix me up, couldn't she find a girl more like Detective Beckett?"

"I don't think there are many girls like Detective Beckett," Castle offered. "She is a unique creation. But I've seen a couple of cuties in your animation class. More your speed?"

"Yeah," Ian considered, "actually I've been thinking about asking one of them, Kirsten, to go with me to the next showing of _Serenity_ at the Angelika."

"Then you should give it a shot," Castle advised gazing at the time displayed on the dash. "Cory Jasper will be coming on shift. We should be back in time to get you settled with him so I can make Kate's stare down at the A.G. Corral."

Ian raised a hand for a high five. "You go for it Dad!"


	45. Chapter 45

Ian

Chapter 45

It was four-fifty P.M. when Castle pulled into the lot of the building at the address Kate had texted. There was a large grouping of vehicles, unmarked, but with government plates. Castle made his way inside as quickly as he could, immediately encountering a uniformed guard and a metal detector. The guard demanded to know his business, examined his I.D., scanned a clipboard, and checked Castle off a list. After Castle retrieved what he had been forced to empty from his pockets, the guard directed him to the elevator and a room upstairs.

Castle ran through his identification again with another guard, who finally showed him into a room with a large video monitor and several chairs. The image on the screen was of a table with multiple occupants, of which Kate was one, but clearly not the primary questioner. On one side of the table Stephanie Hicks sat next to a middle aged man in a custom suit. Castle assumed the man was her attorney. Directly facing them was an attractive woman, with skin the shade of a good café au lait. From a previous quick google, Castle recognized her as Elizabeth Westerman. She was flanked on either side by square jawed men in suits much cheaper than the one sported by Hick's companion. They fixed Hicks with intimidating stares, but remained silent.

"Senator Hicks," Westerman began, "we'll start with confirming that you have been informed of your rights and you will be making your statement here of your free will and with full benefit of counsel."

Hicks swallowed and nodded.

"Senator, this session is being recorded, I need a verbal answer," Westerman instructed.

Hicks swallowed again and shakily replied, "Yes."

"Good," Westerman continued. "Let's start with the operation Jason Marx appears to have inherited from the late Senator John Burnham."

Stephanie Hicks began to giggle. Westerman drew back from the table, regarding Hicks with incredulity. "Senator, this is not a laughing matter."

Hicks shook her head. "I am sorry Ms. Westerman, it's just that you have the situation completely wrong. Jason Marx is not in charge. He didn't inherit the operation from John Burnham because John Burnham never ran it. His wife Ida did - still does."

Castle watched Kate close her involuntarily open mouth. He had to remember to close his as well.

Westerman took a breath, to regain dominance over the room. "Senator, I believe further explanations are in order."

"Fine," Hicks agreed. "Ida Burnham has been in the drug trade since the early sixties. She was Ida Kirkland then. She used the money to put herself through college. She also used it to build a little society for herself. Whether you're aware of it or not, she doesn't drive stick." Kate nodded. "Anyway, back then, that was unacceptable in polite society, so she gathered a group of ladies with similar preferences around her and a group of men that swung the other way. They were all each other's beards. They accompanied each other to social functions and were seen together enough to allay any suspicions. John Burnham was one of that group. He and Ida eventually made a marriage of convenience. He was always pretty easy going and did whatever Ida wanted as long as he could enjoy his boys on the side. She did the same with her ladies. She grew her drug operation, teaming up in New York with a local kingpin named Vulcan Simmons. I believe he turned on her fairly recently and is stowed away as a witness somewhere. He must have really led your people down the garden path. Anyway, Ida helped finance John's political career. Then his connections overseas helped build her operation more. For any hits, she called the shots. She ran the contract killer Coonan and the cop who took him out. John helped her pick up protection from someone in the CIA."

"Who?" Kate blurted out, still stunned.

"I don't know," Hicks replied. "That's been one deep dark secret. But what I do know is that somewhere along the line John Burnham became lovers with Jason Marx and Ida tied up with Christine Roum. John developed some kind of heart disease, and Ida preferred to stay in the shadows, so Jason Marx took on more and more responsibilities. When it became obvious than John wasn't going to live to a ripe old age, Jason used drug money to begin recruiting politicians who would protect and enlarge Ida's operations. Christine Roum was one of them and she and Ida became lovers. Apparently Ida likes her ladies large and Christine likes hers old and rich. Marx also played a big role in the formation of Future Forward. That's why they launder the Burnham drug money and provide cover for Marx now."

"That's a great story," Westerman observed, "is there any proof?"

"Well I have no idea what you may have been able to get out of Vulcan Simmons," Hicks asserted, "but I can tell you that Ida is a stickler for record keeping. I heard she has a vault full of hard drives at the estate in Westchester, and there's supposed to be a back-up in the cloud somewhere as well. You get some nice judge to sign a warrant or two for you, you should have all the proof you need."

"Yes, we will see about that," Westerman declared. "In the meantime, Senator Hicks, you will remain our guest."

Kate left the observation room still white faced and went to look for Castle in the observation room.

"You all right, Kate?" He worried. "That wasn't exactly what we were expecting."

The breath pushed its way out of Kate's lungs. "No it wasn't Castle. I'm okay, but I'm really glad you made it. How much did you hear?"

Castle wrapped his arms around her. "All of it, I think."

"Castle, I think from here, Ida Burnham can be taken down. Once we do, she won't be putting out any more hits. But there's even more at stake. If someone in the CIA is protecting her, then there's something really wrong with their overseas operations, and it's bleeding into what's happening here."

Castle tucked her head under his chin. "Kate, I was around the CIA long enough to know that something is always going south and the separation between foreign and domestic operations is a crock. I write it that way in my Derrick Storms because it is that way. That's why I always have Derrick going off the reservation. There's at least as much idiocy and incompetency in the CIA as there is anywhere else. Consider the intelligence on the war in Iraq. That has to be one of the most expensive and deadly missed calls in history. And look how long it took to get actionable intelligence on Osama Bin Laden. Any ties to the Burnham operation are just one aspect of what is one massive clusterfuck."

Kate pulled back and looked up at him. "Castle that's hardly encouraging. Can you call your contact and see what she says?"

"Kate, I can and for you, I will," Castle promised, "but I'm pretty sure she hasn't been straight with me. As you pointed out before, there were a lot of things the CIA should have known, especially about overseas movement of funds. She didn't mention any of them. She didn't mention the dirt on the Burnhams either. There's something going on I can't get a handle on. Anyway, if we do get some kind of lead on a rogue agent, what can we do about it? You have no jurisdiction over the CIA. Neither does Westerman.

Kate shook her head. "Castle I don't know. But if there's a loose thread out there, I can't just leave it dangling."

"Alright Kate," Castle agreed doubtfully. "If you want to be a fly on the wall, we can call her together. Two sets of ears are better than one."


	46. Chapter 46

Ian

Chapter 46

Cory Jasper had just finished making a fresh pot of coffee when Castle and Kate arrived at the loft. Castle inhaled appreciatively. "Willing to share that?"

Cory gave an uncharacteristic grin. "It's your coffee Mr. Castle. I wish I could get some this good."

"Oh, it's a special blend, free trade," Castle explained, a hint of pride lightening his voice. "I'll order you some." Castle filled mugs for himself and Kate and led the way to his office. On his cell, he selected the contact number for Sofia Turner and spoke the familiar code to the voice mail.

"What do we do now?" Kate asked.

"We wait." Castle wiggled his eyebrows. "We could find a way to fill the time. Wanna neck?"

"Castle, your son is upstairs and his bodyguard is in the kitchen," Kate protested halfheartedly.

"Exactly my point. Ian has an online anime forum on Sunday nights. Cory is trained to mind his own business and my bedroom door has a lock on it. Kate, I'm not suggesting getting hot and sweaty. The phone would probably ring in the middle anyway. But we could canoodle a little."

Kate giggled. "Canoodle, Castle?"

"Sure. Rick and Katie sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g," Castle sang in a boyish falsetto.

Kate gazed at him, her eyes wide. "You didn't finish the song, Castle."

Taking her hand, Castle led her the few feet to the bedroom and drew her into his arms. "Kate, we have to do the beginning first."

They kissed gently, wary of building up a heat that would need quenching at any moment. Castle was playful, twisting locks of her hair around his fingers, then piling them in strange shapes on her head.

"Castle - what - are - you - doing?" Kate inquired between kisses.

"Playing Patty LaBelle or ooh, better yet, Lady Gaga, creating strange, weird and wonderful styles," Castle announced gleefully. "This would actually be much better with whipped cream, but Ian used up the last of it making the world's best sundae and I haven't had a chance to go shopping."

"I guess that means you're not going to try to make me a meat dress, either," Kate teased.

"Detective Beckett, that would be gross! I..." They were interrupted by the riff that opens James Bond movies, emanating from Castle's phone. "That's her." Castle put a finger to his lips and activated the speaker.

"Rick, this is getting to be a habit," Sofia's smoky alto purred through the phone.

"Sofia, we believe we've made a major breakthrough in the case," Castle responded, "but our source has hinted at CIA involvement. What can you tell me about that?"

The mellowness disappeared from Sofia's tone. "I can tell you that it's ridiculous, Rick. The CIA has better things to do than help crooked politicians peddle drugs."

"Could someone have gone rogue?" Castle proposed.

"Castle, anything is possible," Sofia returned sharply, "but if there's a rogue agent involved, no word of it has reached me. And if there is one, you and your new muse would be better off leaving the whole matter alone. Rogue agents are deadly Rick. Getting in the way of one could make whatever you're writing the last chapter for both of you, and I'd rather see your books stay on the market. A word to the wise."

Castle and Kate locked gazes. "I understand, Sofia," he assured the agent.

"Good, Rick. Stay safe." The phone beeped with the termination of the call.

Kate pushed her hair back and pressed her lips in a hard line. "Castle I think she's lying. No one gets that defensive, that fast, unless they have something to hide."

Furrows bracketed the bridge of Castle's nose. "I didn't think she was being straight with me before, and now I'm sure of it. She knows something, but Kate the way she warned us off, maybe it would be better for us to let go. Westerman will be going after everything Ida Burnham has. If there is anything, it should shake out."

"That doesn't mean Westerman will share, Castle. We may never hear about anything else. Our part of the case is the murders. We know who committed them and now we know who ordered them. As far as she's concerned, as soon as that information is confirmed, we should be done. There are a lot of political implications. Whatever other information turns up will probably be tightly guarded by the A.G.'s office in order to to minimize fallout."

"Then Kate, can you take Sofia's advice and walk away?"

"Castle, if there are no more leads to follow, I may have to."

"But?" Castle prompted.

"If there is a trail, I need to follow it. But that doesn't mean you should get involved, Castle. Ian needs a father and you need a son. You've both been put in enough danger already." Kate smiled weakly. "And needing a bodyguard on a date could really cramp Ian's style. He should get his life back, Castle, and you shouldn't endanger yours. But it might all be as my father would say, moot. When we get what we need to back up Hicks' statement, Montgomery will close the case. I'll move on to another one and you can move on to it with me. So how about if we just say 'night, and I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Night then," Castle agreed, his voice a husky whisper. He leaned in for a final kiss.

Castle closed the door behind Kate and saw the first spark of the too familiar scintillation start. His mind was issuing a warning, loud and clear. Sooner or later Kate would try to walk back into the blades of a spinning turbine and there was nothing he could do to stop her. He retreated to his room before the aura came on full force. It could be a long and painful night, but at least Ian wouldn't need to know about it. He'd be safe in Cory or later Carl's care. Despite the drain on his bank account, until Ida Burnham and everyone associated with her was thrown in a deep hole, he was in no hurry to dispense with Warner's services. However the A.G.'s office did, or did not wind up the case, Ian would be safe. Castle pulled out his medicine safe from his bureau.

* * *

Sunlight insisted on penetrating around the edges of the drapes that covered Castle's windows, prodding him to cautiously open his eyes. The pain of his migraine was almost gone and the nausea only an echo deep in his throat. By the time he finished a hot shower, both would probably be gone. He reached for the nightstand to check his watch. It was six A.M.. He'd have some time with Ian before whatever guard was on duty whisked him off to school.

Castle had just started a pot of coffee and was beating eggs for Ian's morning scramble when Ian loped down the stairs, still on a high from an evening of exchanging anime trivia with friends around the world. His computer converted the text of the posted comments to audio, and Ian's verbal comments to text, giving him a session free of the stress of trying to decipher the written postings at speed. Castle felt revived just seeing the joy on his son's face. He added a couple more eggs to his bowl, with the happy realization that he actually wanted join his son in eating them. Suddenly rogue CIA agents and murderous drug dealers retreated to the distant borders of his mind. The center of his world was right in front of him.


	47. Chapter 47

Ian

Chapter 47

Castle made it to the Twelfth at 9:30 A.M.. He found Kate sitting at her desk staring at an email, her eyes darkened with rage. "What's wrong?"

Kate pounded her fist on the desk's metal surface, sending papers sliding off a pile. "There was an early morning raid on the Burnham Estate. They'd been tipped off, Castle. Ida was gone. Roum and Marx have disappeared. The place had been cleared out. Someone set off thermite in the vault, destroying all the hard drives."

Castle sank heavily into his chair at her side and took her hand, unballing her fingers."Was there any evidence left?"

"Fortunately the warrant went out to the operator of the server farm where the back-ups were kept before those files could be deleted. They've been downloaded. But they were encrypted Castle, and not with some easy pet name password. Whoever did it used a random number generator. There are crypto people on it, trying to recover something, but it could be weeks or months before they do. The only positive thing, if there is one, is that Stephanie Hicks won't get her walk, at least not right away, because there's nothing to back up her statement."

"Not much comfort is it?" Castle murmured softly.

"No," Kate admitted. "There's a nationwide hunt out for Ida, Marx, and Roum, but they may not even be in the country anymore. From New York they could have picked up a private plane to anywhere."

And if someone from the CIA is providing cover," Castle continued, "phony passports, credit cards, would be easy. Their offshore accounts would be accessed by number only. They could operate under whole new identities. I guess the only good news is that they wouldn't be here."

"That's not good news Castle," Kate retorted, the words hissing from her lips. "Ida was behind my mother's murder. I want to see her die rotting in jail."

Castle caressed her hand with his thumb. "Yeah Kate, I get that."

The ringing of the land line on Kate's desk jarred them both. Kate picked it up and began to write down an address. "What?" Castle queried after she'd hung up.

"We have a new murder, Castle, a cab driver uptown." Kate pushed away from her desk and shrugged into the jacket that had been on the back of her chair. Castle never thought he'd be grateful for someone's death, but at that moment he was. He followed her to the elevator.

* * *

Esposito and Ryan were already at the scene. Lanie Parish knelt by the body. "Espo," Kate called, "we got an ID on the body?"

"His face matches the picture on the dash," Esposito informed her, "one Amir Alhabi."

"Robbery?" Kate wondered.

Lanie looked up. "The cause of death was a GSW to the back of the head. But unless that was one sick robber, this guy wasn't just jacked for his money. His fingernails have been yanked out. There were also cigarette burns on his arms. The man was tortured, Kate."

Castle stared down at the corpse. "I know fares are high, but why would anyone torture a cab driver? You'd think a bad tip would suffice."

Kate looked over at Ryan who was scribbling notes. "What else?"

"Unis found the body because they found someone stripping the car. He didn't kill Amir. He didn't have a gun on him and there was no blood on his clothes. But he might have seen something." Ryan pointed. "He's in the back of that unit."

"Well tell them to take him to the Twelfth. We can question him there," Kate instructed. "Is CSI on their way?"

Ryan nodded, before trotting off to talk to the uniformed officers.

* * *

Under Kate's piercing stare, Leeman Jones swiped the sweat from the brow of his balding head. "Do you always steal from dead cabbies, Mr. Jones?"

"The parts weren't going to do him any good," Jones contended. "A man's gotta make a buck."

"You could try fast food," Castle quipped. "Fewer dead bodies, unless you count what goes into the hamburgers."

"I had nothing to do with the dead body," Jones maintained. "Why not charge me with theft and be done with it? Don't you guys want to track down the killer? I thought that's what homicide cops do."

"We do, Mr. Jones," Kate agreed, "but you're actually here because we could use your help. And who knows, if you give us something useful, we could help you out with the D.A.."

Leeman leaned across the table hopefully. "Well I did see something. There was someone running away from the car."

"Being a little more specific might help," Castle suggested.

"It was a guy," Jones added.

"Okay," Castle noted, "that eliminates half the population of New York."

Kate shuffled her chair in impatience."Mr Jones, if you're trying to earn some points, we'll need more than that. What did this man look like?"

"I didn't get a good look. Like I said, he was running away. "Solidly built, but not as big as your friend here," he said pointing at Castle. "Dark hair, I think. And he had this thing about him, square shoulders or something."

"Like he might have been in the military?" Castle prompted.

Jones nodded. "Yeah maybe. Come to think of it, short haircut like that too."

Kate's cell phone buzzed and she left the room to answer it. She returned a few minutes later and signaled to Castle from the doorway. She closed the door behind him as he joined her. "Castle, I just got a report from Lanie. CSI found traces of radioactive materials in Amir Alhabi's cab. And Lanie found radioactivity on the body too. It was on his his hands, where the killer would have touched him. And Alhabi was from Syria. Put that all together and there's a chance we may have a tie in with terrorism - terrorism involving nuclear materials. I talked to Montgomery. He's already called in Homeland Security."

"Kate, are you saying someone might have a nuclear bomb in New York City?" Castle demanded.

"Castle, that's jumping ten steps ahead and no. not a conventional nuclear bomb, anyway. What CSI found was cesium," Kate explained, "not uranium or plutonium. And cesium has other uses, medical and industrial. Lanie said that medical wastes are sometimes dumped. Our killer could have made accidental contact. Still the possibility exists for a dirty bomb. Cesium could be used for that. It would be no 9/11. It wouldn't blow up the city, but it could cause panic and make a lot of people sick."

Castle drew a breath. "You're not making me feel much better Kate. I have a little chalet in the Poconos Ian and I use when we go skiing. "I'm going to arrange to have Warner and his men watch him there. At least he'll be away from New York."

"Castle I understand. But you can't tell them why. If people thought there was some kind of terrorist threat to the city, the roads would be clogged, they'd be seeing terrorists behind every bush. Police, emergency services, nothing would be able to function."

"Kate, I get it. I can tell Warner and Ian that things went south with the case we were working on. I wouldn't be lying."

"You know Castle," Kate reminded him, "you could go to Pennsylvania too. There's no reason you need to stay in harm's way."

"Kate, with Ida and whomever she's been working with on the loose, I'm not sure I'm safe anywhere. At least if I work with you I'm surrounded by cops. And I have a lifetime's worth of friends in this city. My mother has a play going on, off Broadway. I want to save New York, not desert it. I think we work well together and I want to help."

"Alright Castle, in that case, let's go see Amir's wife. You can make your calls on the way."


	48. Chapter 48

Ian

Chapter 48

Face wet with tears, Nazihah Alhabi clung tightly to her baby. Her husband's cousin Fariq Yusef tried to be of comfort, as she was faced by questions from Kate and Castle. Kate did her best to be gentle. She leaned forward in her chair, resting her forearms on her thighs. "Mrs. Alhabi, your husband had information someone wanted, wanted enough to kill him for it. Have you any idea what that might have been or who would have wanted it?"

Fresh sobs erupted from Nazihah's chest. "It makes no sense, not here, not in the United States. Amir drove a cab. He knew nothing worth killing for."

"Mrs. Alhabi," Castle put in, "you said not here. Would he have had information elsewhere, perhaps in your native country?"

"In Syria, Amir was an engineer," Fariq explained. "He studied hard and he learned, because he wanted to move our country forward, make it a better place for our people. But he was forced into building weapons. That's why we left. That's why we were given asylum. He wanted no part of that here."

"Nuclear weapons?" Castle queried.

Fariq shook his head. "We don't know. Amir thought it would be better if we didn't."

"So is it possible," Kate questioned, "that someone could have tried to avail themselves of his expertise?"

"Amir would never have given in to anything like that," Nazihah insisted. He gave up everything he was, almost everything we had, to avoid being part of that kind of destruction."

"And I'm sure he didn't give in," Kate responded softly. "But anything either one of you could tell us about what his special skills entailed, could be helpful in tracking down his killer."

"I never understood it," Fariq, confided. "It had to do with how things spread, how things scatter. I believe Amir originally intended to apply it to agriculture."

"Yes," he said he worked with patterns," Nazihah added. "He actually found that helpful as a cab driver, figuring out how traffic would flow. He said it made his trips faster, so he could pick up more fares."

Kate thanked Nazihah and Fariq. Both she and Castle re-offered their sympathies and returned to Kate's unit. Castle scrubbed a hand over his face as he sat beside Kate. "Scatter patterns. Kate, that's just what someone would need to understand how to build the most efficient dirty bomb. The more they could spread the radioactivity around, the more havoc they could wreak and the more difficult the cleanup."

Kate turned the key harder than necessary to start the car. "I know, Castle. We're just going to have to figure out who would have known enough to try to get that information out of Amir and who could have put their hands on enough cesium to build a bomb. The intersection of those two paths should give us both Amir's murderer and our potential bomb builder."

Captain Montgomery called a strategy meeting in the conference room and introduced the representative from Homeland Security. Agent Mark Fallon stood ramrod straight. His hair was cropped in a flat crew, with only the gray at his temples an indication of age. His eyes were dark and hard. He glared at Castle and turned to Montgomery. "What is he doing here? This situation is need to know. That means no civilians."

"I'm afraid it's a little late for that, Agent Fallon," Castle threw back. "I already know and I'm here to help."

"Castle is an out of the box thinker," Montgomery explained. "He has been able to make connections no one else saw on some of our toughest cases. You do want him here."

Fallon snorted. "That remains to be seen. Mr Castle, I'm watching you. If you leak one word of what's going on here, I'll have you arrested. Do you read me?"

"Loud and clear," Castle responded.

"Perhaps we should begin with a rundown of what we know so far," Montgomery suggested. "Detective Beckett?"

Kate gave a summary of what had been gleaned from the crime scene and what she and Castle had learned from Nazihah and Fariq. "The way I see it," she asserted, "we have two avenues of investigation and both are going to require a lot of eyes. First, we need to track down every possible source of cesium 137, find out if there were any shortages. If any has come up missing, we dig into anyone who had any possible access. That would be our connection to our killer and potential bomber.

"The other avenue is identifying the man who was seen running away from the scene of Amir's murder. CSI is snowed under, tracing all the prints found in Amir's cab. But it's possible something might pop. Almost the same thing with DNA. There was so much, it is almost impossible to identify, but they'll be looking for phenotypes that fit what little description we have. We have a dark haired Caucasian male.

"The description also implied a possible military connection. So we will be looking at members of the military that would have had an opportunity at some point to learn about Amir. Because of his military experience, I would suggest having Detective Esposito spearhead that portion of the investigation, with as many extra hands to sift through military records as he needs."

"Good call," Montgomery remarked. "And I'll put you in charge of tracking cesium 137 supplies. Let's get to it!"

"Oh my God!" Castle exclaimed, staring in horror at the monitor on the computer at the desk he'd been assigned near Kate's.

Kate turned to him. "What's wrong, Castle?"

"Cesium 137, it's everywhere! It went into the ocean from the reactor accident in Japan. It's in the drinking water of fifteen U.S. cities and it's been found in milk. I'm going to have to put a radiation detector on my refrigerator."

"Castle, that's very disturbing," Kate agreed, "but have you found anything relevant to the case?"

"Maybe," Castle mused. "Kate we might be going at this from the wrong angle. We're looking for thefts or possible large purchases. I checked, you can make small purchases of cesium 137 in several forms. It's legal for the general public to own it and doesn't even require a license. The damn stuff is drop shipped. Hobbyists can buy it, sometimes in disk form. Suppose, you either had one person buying a lot of small quantities over time or better still, a network of persons each buying a small quantity. There'd be no red flags. Then the builder decides to combine it all in a bomb, but he needs someone like Amir to figure out the best way to employ what the cesium he has to do the most damage."

"So by your theory, we would go to legitimate suppliers and look either at customers who've made a string of small purchases or a large number of small purchases made by different buyers over a short span of time?" Kate clarified

Castle nodded vigorously. "Exactly. And Kate, if I'm right, and whoever is doing this couldn't get what they needed from Amir, they'll have to go after someone else with that kind of expertise. We need to start looking for people who might fit that bill."

"Castle, how do we do that? There must be hundreds or even thousands of engineers, scientists, and mathematicians in the Greater New York area. We can't go through all of them."

"No, but we can go through papers on scatter patterns. There can't be that many of those. We look at the authors," Castle proposed, "and see who might be a likely replacement for Amir."

"Alright Castle," Kate agreed, "you look into that and I'll get started getting customer lists for small quantities of cesium 137. We'll see what we come up with, and hope we do it fast enough.


	49. Chapter 49

Ian

Chapter 49

Castle let himself into the loft, threw his keys on his dresser and plopped heavily on the bed. He used his hand to cover eyes burning from hours staring at a computer monitor, hoping it had been worth it. He'd generated a list of experts in scatter patterns. Kate and her people would be working through it and he would return to join them in the morning,

He'd come home hoping to sleep. It was quiet enough, too quiet. The air was missing the energy it had when Ian was there. Regardless, he felt that it was better that his son was gone. The Poconos were only about three hours away, close by New York standards, but the distance was enough to keep Ian safe. Castle had spoken on the phone to him earlier. Ian was disappointed that what he had expected to be a break from school would be filled with assignments transmitted online. He was also worried about his father, despite Castle's assurances that he couldn't be much safer than surrounded by a zillion police, including his warrior princess. Sometimes the kid was just too perceptive. Castle was pretty sure Ian got that from his mother. Still it was a lot better that Ian be worried than in the path of a radioactive cloud.

Castle tried hard to rest. He lay in the dark for an hour with more and more frightening images swimming behind his eyelids. Finally he gave up and went to his office. The plot would be grim, but a Nikki Heat was writing itself. It would be a new book, rather than a new chapter in the one he was already writing, but it would be good to have something in reserve. The room faded away as the words flowed from his fingers - until he felt a presence in front of him.

His breath catching in his chest, Castle looked up. A man, at least six four, towered over him. An impressive head of white hair topped coal black brows and eyes that looked strangely familiar. Castle grabbed for his only available weapon, a letter opener.

"Settle down," Castle's unexpected guest instructed, with a hint of amusement. "I'm not going to hurt you. If I'd wanted to, you'd already be dead."

"How'd you get in here?" Castle demanded. "What are you, some kind of spook?"

"If by spook you mean ghost, no. If you mean intelligence asset, uh huh. You've gotten yourself into a real pile of it, two piles of it, actually. So I'm here to help you."

Castle gazed at his visitor in confusion. "Why? Did Sofia send you?"

Dark Brows rolled his eyes."Hardly. Who do you think tipped off Ida Burnham? She was using you, Richard. She was letting you feed her information about Detective Beckett's investigation and when things got too close, she blew it up. Literally."

"Are you saying Sofia is Ida's protector?" Castle blurted. "Why the hell should I believe you? You broke into my home. I don't even know who you are. For all I know, you could be working for Ida Burnham."

The intruder just shook his head. "Again, you'd be dead. Did Martha ever tell you the story of how you were conceived?"

"You know my mother?" Castle asked incredulously.

"Knew, and in the biblical sense," the visitor confided. "It was one of those meetings, an instant irresistible attraction. Strictly outside my operating rules. I'm not supposed to get involved with anyone. Attachments get people killed. We had one incredible passionate night, a long one. We ran out of condoms. Then I got called away on a mission. Nine months later you were born. I had no idea. I was off in the jungle in Southeast Asia. I didn't find out about you until I got back to the states, and then there wasn't much I could do about it anyway. I've kept an eye on you and Martha and Ian, tried to make sure you were doing all right. I was truly sorry when Ian's mother died. But this is the first time I've had to intervene. First you get yourself involved with the Burnham operation and now you're chasing after a dirty bomb."

Castle stared, shock squeezing his vocal cords. "Wait, you're my father?" he croaked.

"That's what I just told you, yes," the looming figure confirmed.

"Uh, damn! I don't even know what to call you!" Castle exclaimed. "And how do you know about the bomb?"

"You can call me Jackson Hunt," the man replied. "I've had that name for a while. I'm kind of used to it. As for knowing about the bomb..." Hunt snorted. "Homeland Security leaks like a sieve, that's when they actually have a clue about where a real threat might be coming from. They wouldn't even have known about this one if it hadn't been for your new girlfriend. And Fallon, he has some questionable connections son. I'm still looking into that, but you need to watch your back. I'd advise you to get your ass to the Poconos with your son until this whole mess is straightened out, but you're probably the smartest one on the whole case. At least they're looking in the right place now, which they wouldn't have been without you. You and Detective Beckett make quite a team, although sleeping with a partner, always problematical."

"How did you? Never mind." Castle's anger rose. "Kate's the only woman I've wanted to be with in a hell of a long time," he snapped, "and Ian likes her. Besides, if what you've told me is true, you're in no position to criticize."

"True enough," Hunt admitted. "besides she beats that witch Gina all to hell. I could never figure out why you went for that one."

"I've often wondered myself," Castle confessed. "Wow, this is a lot to process. I have a father, who's a spy."

"Intelligence asset," Hunt corrected.

"Intelligence asset," Castle repeated,"who has been spying on me my entire life, and even knows whom I'm sleeping with. That's more than a little creepy."

"Point taken," Hunt conceded, "but in this case, you should be grateful. Do not say anything else to Sofia Turner and keep your eyes on Fallon."

"Thanks, I think, but I'm still not convinced you're who you say you are," Castle declared.

"Fine. I anticipated that." Hunt pulled two wrapped swabs from his pocket along with an envelope. He swabbed the inside of his own cheek and put the swab back in it's paper sleeve. Then he handed the other swab to Castle and put his own and the envelope on Castle's desk. "Go ahead. Take a sample from yourself. This envelope has the address of a twenty-four hour lab that confirms paternity. Or find a lab of your own. Suit yourself. I can let myself out. I'll be around."

Castle stared open-mouthed after the retreating figure. After a moment he shook himself, saved what he'd been writing and opened Google to research genetic testing labs. If he had his father's DNA, he wanted a lot more than to just to confirm the relationship. There was so much he had wondered about himself; about his own ancestry; whether he was going to lose his hair. He smiled wryly. He already knew the answer was no from his mother's side of the family and if he took after his father, it would be a definite no there too. He found the type of lab he was looking for, and deciding the extra fee for expediting the results would be worth it, swabbed his own mouth and prepared an envelope for super express shipping the next day.


	50. Chapter 50

Ian

Chapter 50

Castle arrived at the Twelfth bearing coffee for himself and for Kate. The raccoon circles under her eyes made her exhaustion evident and she took the proffered cup gratefully. "Get any sleep?" Castle asked.

"Not much," Kate admitted. "You?"

"Same. So how are we doing?"

Kate pointed to the file on her desk. "We woke up a lot of scientists. A lot of them were fascinated to get a call from the police and highly disappointed we couldn't tell them what it was about. There were a few we couldn't reach. I sent unis out to try and find them. Then there were a couple who were just rude, defensive really. And Castle, they weren't professors and they didn't work in industry. They were grad students, but their theses were on scatter patterns."

"Grad students would be likely to be in need of extra bucks," Castle offered.

Kate nodded. "Exactly what I was thinking. Want to go talk to them?"

"Wouldn't miss it. But on the way I need to tell you about a visitor I had last night."

Stopped at a light, Kate chewed her lip hard as she mulled over what Castle had relayed from his midnight intruder. "Well, you were already suspicious that Sofia wasn't exactly being forthcoming. If it's true about your old muse, I'm sorry you had to find out that way, Castle," Kate claimed, ignoring her own secret twinge of satisfaction. "But it explains a lot. And what he said about Fallon tracks with what Esposito told me. He had a buddy check up on him. The guy is ex-military."

"You could pretty much tell that from looking at him," Castle opined.

"Yeah, but there's more. He was stationed in the Middle East for a while, black ops. The rumor was he was doing missions in Syria."

"He could have known about Amir," Castle realized.

"Exactly. Putting that together with what the guy who purports to be your father said, paints a pretty frightening picture. And concerning whether he really is your father, did you send those swabs off to a lab?"

"I did," Castle confirmed. "I stopped by Mighty Messenger on my way to the precinct. The lab isn't far. It's only a couple of hours away in New Jersey and I was promised the swabs would be there before noon. I can track them too, to make sure. So I should know something in a couple of days, but Kate, there's something about his eyes that's a little like mine. If Ian had been around he probably could have told me exactly what it is. If the man was lying, it's one hell of a coincidence."

* * *

"If you had called Central Casting and asked them to send you a terrorist, you couldn't have done much better than Adnan Issa. He was swarthy with jet black hair and deep set eyes. He looked like it had been days since his last decent meal, and by the ramen containers in his wastebasket, Castle judged that might have been the case. Issa's voice was tired. "What do you people want with me now? Wasn't it enough that I got a call in the middle of the night?"

"Mr. Issa, with Professor Potter, you were listed as an author on a paper on scatter patterns. We believe that might have a connection to a case we're pursuing," Kate explained.

Air hissed out of Issa's nose as he jammed his teeth together. "Right, listed as an author. I wrote it. I'm expanding it in my dissertation. Potter put in a couple of commas and affixed his name. Professorial privilege. And for that he makes ninety thousand a year and I starve. So what could the N.Y.P.D. need to know about scatter patterns? Pretty eclectic, don't you think?"

"Not if you're building a dirty bomb," Castle put in.

"Oh. So think there's a bomb and you come after the guy with the Arabic name," Issa accused. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I know jack about bombs. My research deals with cancer diagnosis. If you'd actually read the paper instead of just looking at the citation, you'd know that. And I have no interest in jihad. I was born in Mount Sinai Hospital in Manhattan and if anyone in my family practices any religion at all, it's Christianity."

"Mr. Issa," Kate soothed, "we would have questioned you if your name was Jones. We're trying to solve a murder and we track down leads, not ethnicities. So is there someone you know in your discipline, whose work might be applied in a less positive direction."

"Sure," Issa returned, "Brad Gutman, if you're really interested. He has blond hair and blue eyes. He lives near Columbia somewhere. I'm sure you can look him up."

"We will, Mr. Issa," Kate assured him.

"Are you going to look Gutman up Kate?" Castle asked as they left the warren of graduate student offices.

"Don't have to, Castle. He was the other guy on our list."

* * *

If Brad Gutman was blond, it was barely discernible. His head had been shaved. He eyes were blue, but pale, not the deep arresting shade of Castle's. He smiled in welcome at Kate, but Castle noted his eyes retained an icy defiance. I apologize if I was abrupt when the officer called me last night. I'd spent eighteen hours on the computer and had just fallen asleep. I'm happy to serve the public good in any way I can," he pronounced, "but I can't imagine how anything I do might be of help to the N.Y.P.D.."

"Mr. Gutman, did you write a paper on scatter patterns?" Kate began.

Gutman shrugged. "Professor Lochner wrote the paper. I was the second author. I ran a number of his simulations for him. A lot of math. Usually the whole subject puts people to sleep. Why?"

"We feel it might have an application to a case we're working on," Kate replied, guarding her words. "Would you by any chance have a copy?"

"Gutman shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet against the floor. "I'm sorry but since it's in a journal that requires subscription, I'm not supposed to give it out. Copyright laws. Really it's just a lot of academic mumbo jumbo. You'd need graduate level courses to make head or tail of it. I doubt it will solve any murders for you Detective, probably just give you a headache."

"Fine Mr. Gutman, our mistake," Kate responded. We can leave you to your work now."

"Demeaning, dismissive asshole! Kate, why did you let him go like that?" Castle demanded as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Because I don't want to tip him off, Castle. Did you see the tattoo on the inside of his wrist, fourteen?" It's a white supremacist tattoo. And there were three different rags about guns and weapons sitting on his bookcase. Remember Oklahoma City? After 9/11 that was the worst terrorist attack we've ever had in this country and it had nothing to do with the Middle East. It was a couple of homegrown white guys pissed off at the federal government. They both had military involvement. One of them was a militia sympathizer. I could see someone like Gutman being pulled into a plot like that. He may already have been contacted. I'm going to put a surveillance team on him. Um, what are you doing?"

Castle punched letters into his phone. "Ordering a copy of that paper. The journal only wants forty bucks for it. I'll send it to my printer at the loft. We can pick it up on the way back to the precinct. While we're there, I can make more coffee. I think we both need it."

Kate rotated her stiff shoulders and rubbed her bloodshot eyes. "Castle you've got that right."


	51. Chapter 51

Ian

Chapter 51

In the kitchen of the loft, Kate thoughtfully cradled the aromatic hot mug Castle had pressed into her hands. "Castle, why would Sofia Turner have been protecting the Burnham operation? And if the CIA knew about it, why wouldn't she be dead or in prison?"

"I've pondered that. In my Derrick Storm research I saw quite a few reports of the CIA teaming with local drug lords to fight either Al Qaida or the Taliban. As far as I could tell, it was an enemy of my enemy sort of thing. And the CIA needs support on the hill. As nauseating as it is to think about it, what Sofia's been doing may have been sanctioned. The CIA may have even helped with the encryption of the Burnham files," Castle suggested. "They don't want their dirty little secrets out there."

"That does sort of beg the question of why Ida, Marx, and Roum would have been allowed to escape," Kate puzzled.

"Maybe they weren't," Castle proposed. "They could have been whisked off to some nice non-extradition country. The CIA can operate freely outside our borders. Once things settle down, they could send someone to take them out, maybe cast them as victims in a drug war. Or they could already be in unmarked graves. We may never know."

"Castle, Ida was responsible for my mother's death. I need to know if she's still out there."

Castle cradled Kate's cheek in his palm. "I understand. For the sake of Ian's safety and my own, I'd like to know too. If my father, if he really is my father, shows up again, maybe we can find out. But we have a more immediate threat. If we want to keep the city from taking on an unearthly glow, we need to track our potential bomb builders. So while you have people on Gutman, what's our next step?"

"You came up with it Castle, the N.Y.P.D. just needed to do the grunt work. "We look at the people buying Cesium 137. There should be a list of possible and probable suspects by now." Kate pulled her cell out of her pocket. "I can call Ryan and check."

Kate's eyes hardened as she listened to Ryan's report, then shoved her phone back in her pocket. "Castle, the biggest distributor wouldn't release their customer list without a warrant, so he isn't expecting it for at least another hour. Homeland could have pushed it through faster, but after what Espo found out about Fallon, neither Ryan nor Espo wanted to get anything near him."

"Good for Ryan and Esposito." Castle took the coffee mug out of Kate's hand. "Listen, if we've got an hour or more, wouldn't a nap be better than coffee? You look like you went out in the rain wearing the world's cheapest mascara, and I'm betting I don't look much better." Castle extended a hand. "Come with me."

Castle hadn't bothered to make the bed when he'd abandoned it the night before, and it still bore signs of his struggle to summon Morpheus. He hurriedly smoothed it, inviting Kate to lie with him on the satiny comforter. Spooning with her, he pulled a throw from the foot of the bed over them. In the mingling of each other's warmth, they fell into dreamless slumber.

Ninety minutes later, Kate was roused when her cell, still in her pants, dinged a text alert. She reached for it, sniffing back drowsiness and struggling to make her eyes focus. She nudged Castle. "The list is in."

* * *

Printouts of the transactions from United Isotopes and several smaller cesium 137 vendors, were spread across the conference table at the Twelfth. "There's no big buyer here," Kate announced in frustration, "no steady streams to one source, unless someone is using multiple aliases and addresses."

"There is a pattern though," Castle pointed out. "In the past six months, small purchases have almost tripled and they're all on the Eastern Seaboard, clustering around New York. Look at New Jersey and Connecticut. There's a network here, Kate. We need to start checking the backgrounds of some of these buyers, especially the closest ones."

"Right Castle," Kate agreed, "we look for military history, especially connections to militias."

"Also any possible link to Gutman," Castle added.

Kate regarded the names Castle had circled on the printouts. "Castle, even with extra people, this is going to be a hell of a lot of work, and we can't be too obvious about it. Fallon has people chasing jihadists. We can't tip him that we're going in a different direction."

"Well when the going get's tough, the tough order pizza," Castle declared. "Or would you rather have Chinese?"

Kate couldn't stifle affectionate laughter. "You do have a thing with food, don't you Castle?"

Castle grinned at her. "Part of raising a teenage son. It's a frequent topic of conversation. But really, we're going to be here for hours and we don't need to pile starvation on top of sleep deprivation. "Chinese? Ribs? Fried Chicken? Sushi? Skip the main course and go for Crepes Suzette?"

"Castle, I don't think Montgomery would think much of igniting pancakes in here. How about sandwiches? I could really use a big damn hero, with chips that are totally bad for us on the side."

Castle pulled out his cell. "A big damn hero for the warrior princess coming up."

The sandwiches and chips were hours gone when Castle looked up from his monitor. "Kate, I think I've got something." Kate pulled herself stiffly out of her chair and went to look over Castle's shoulder. Castle pointed at names on the screen. "These six guys, they live in three different states, but they all went to the same high school, DeWitt Clinton in the Bronx. Then they all ended up in the same unit in the military. They were in Iraq just before the big troop withdrawals started. They would have seen everything they tried to accomplish, falling apart. That could make for a lot of anger. I also found that a couple of them post on sites advocating the free use of weapons. Gutman has posted on one of those sites too. That may be how they connected."

Kate impulsively kissed his temple. "Castle this isn't enough to go after anyone head on. So far there's no evidence that any of these men has done anything illegal. But if we catch Gutman meeting up with any of them, I think we can be pretty sure you're right. I'll contact his surveillance team and tell them what to look for. And we need to check for overlaps with what Esposito's team came up with. If he's tagged any of these guys, there's going to be a lot of smoke leading to the fire."

"Where is Espo?" Castle asked.

"His group took over a big conference room at 1PP. They can all plug their computers in there and there's a big screen to project things on. 1PP also has a higher class of junk food in their vending machines than we have here, though I don't know if they have those jalapeno poppers Espo likes so much."

"We could always bring him some," Castle suggested, "especially since he missed out on the sandwiches."

"Castle, that's a good idea, because if what he's got lines up with what we have, we'll have more people than Gutman to sit on. Those poppers may be the last break he'll get for a while."


	52. Chapter 52

Ian

Chapter 52

Kate's phone buzzed, announcing an email, as she and Castle were approaching the conference room Esposito had commandeered at 1PP. "What's up?" Castle inquired.

"CSI's sorted out some of the finger prints in Amir's cab," Kate relayed. "They found an anomaly. There was a set of prints with two different identities. One is of a cab driver named Kevin McCann. Fariq told me Amir rented out shifts. McCann must have taken some them. But here's the interesting part. They also matched up with prints in the military data base for a Radford Hayes."

"Neither McCann nor Hayes is on our list of cesium 137 buyers," Castle noted.

"No," Kate agreed, "but what do you want to bet he's on Esposito's list?"

Castle shook his head. "No bet."

* * *

Kate and Castle and Ryan and Esposito had parked their units at opposite ends of the block in Brooklyn where a building housed an apartment leased to Kevin McCann. Castle fiddled with his phone. "Kate, I found a nexus between Radford Hayes and our cesium 137 buyers. He went to DeWitt Clinton the same time as they did. I went through the online yearbook. Those classmate meet up sites can come in handy."

"And there was a military connection between him and Fallon too," Kate added. "Espo had one of his buddies get into Hayes' file. Fallon was one of his training officers. I asked Montgomery to run interference for us, but I don't know how long it's going to be before Fallon twigs to what we're up to. If there's a bomb, I'm hoping either Gutman or Hayes will lead us to it." Her cell buzzed. "That's the surveillance team I have on Gutman. He's on the move."

Castle peered through a pair of binoculars and pointed. "That's Hayes coming out of his building!"

"This may be it, Castle! They may both be heading for a meet. Get Ryan and Esposito on your phone and put them on speaker. We'll want to play tag team so he doesn't pick up on one car following him. And I'll use my phone to stay in touch with the team on Gutman." Hayes slid behind the wheel of an F-150 parked at the curb. He began a route that meandered through surface streets, eventually reaching Brooklyn Bridge Blvd. "He's heading into Manhattan," Kate noted. Hayes continued north. Gutman's surveillance team indicated that he had headed north as well and had entered a warehouse in Washington Heights. Switching off every couple of miles, Kate and Castle and Ryan and Esposito followed Hayes to the same warehouse.

"Are you going to go in after them or are you going to call CSU?" Castle questioned.

"We can't go in Castle. We don't have enough of a basis for a warrant. We haven't caught either of them doing anything illegal and there aren't any exigent circumstances to give us probable cause," Kate asserted, her voice rough with frustration. "We'd need a sign that there was imminent danger and we don't have one."

"How about a radiation detector?" Castle proposed. "If you could detect radiation in there, would that be enough?"

"Castle, I have one on my belt, but even if the cesium is in there, it won't pick up anything through the walls of the building. It's set to ignore low levels."

Castle smiled in self satisfaction and reached into the glove compartment for a meter in a leather case. "Ah, but we have something better. This is a top of the line radiation detector, with complete microprocessor technology. I put it in here when you were stowing your gear in the trunk. I got it for one of Ian's school projects. We were looking for low levels of radiation in everyday objects. You'd be amazed and probably a little scared by what turns up in cinder blocks and cheap silverware." Kate raised her eyebrows, urging him to get to the point. "Anyway," Castle continued, "it's very sensitive. If someone brought cesium 137 into the building recently, they should have left some kind of faint trail, I might be able to pick something up with this."

Kate looked doubtful. "Castle, what if they see you?"

"How, Kate? That warehouse doesn't have any windows. That's probably why they picked the place. I'll stay away from the door. If they have video surveillance, that's most likely where it would be. I'll scan the parking lot and see what I come up with. And if Hayes or Gutman comes out and tries to come after me, you'll have your exigent circumstances. You can take them in."

"Alright, Castle," Kate agreed hesitantly, "but I'll be watching you every second."

Castle squeezed her hand before getting out of the car. "I'm counting on it."

Castle adjusted his detector to its most sensitive range, immediately picking up what he recognized as background radiation. He walked a search pattern back and forth across the parking lot, watching for a significant jump in his readings. Finally he found one, following a line that would lead to the warehouse door. He hurried back to Kate's unit. "The trail is there, Kate. I found it."

Kate nodded and picked up her cell. "Okay Castle, now we call a judge - and CSU."

With a similarly outfitted Esposito, a squad of armed and radiation suited CSU officers ringed the warehouse. The Bomb Disposal Unit and Special Services hung back with Ryan, prepared to act. Paramedics stood at ready. Gutman and Hayes were still inside and the CSU captain called to them on a bullhorn, ordering them to come out. There was no response. Simultaneously the squad broke though both the front and rear doors. Radiation detectors began to bleep. Hayes stood in front of a device, holding a triggering mechanism in one hand and a 9mm Sig in the other. "You come any closer and I blow us all to hell."

A radiation suited Gutman stood well back from the device. He shakily held up an open palm toward Hayes. "Wait a minute. I didn't sign on for a suicide mission. He were just going to show the fucking liberals that we need to be able to defend ourselves and stop them from taking away our guns."

"And you're a fucking coward!" Hayes accused.

Without warning, Hayes raised his gun and shot Gutman." In the moment Hayes was distracted, Esposito closed in, knocking Hayes to the ground, seizing the triggering device, and cuffing him. Clear out now!" the CSU captain ordered. "Get the victim to the paramedics and let Special Services and BDU deal with the bomb!"

Side by side with Kate, Castle watched the flow of men out of the building. Unzipping his suit, Esposito came straight to Kate. "We got 'em Beckett, the bomb too. Once the BDU gets through, those assholes aren't blowing up anything." Glancing over Kate's shoulder, Esposito gave his partner a thumbs up and strode away to make sure his prisoner didn't get loose while being checked by Special Services.

Kate looked up at Castle. Her eyes were wide and she unconsciously moistened her lips with her tongue. "You know Espo and CSU took those guys down, but we couldn't have done it without you Castle. You made so many of the connections in this case."

Castle lightly brushed his knuckle over her cheekbone. "There are plenty of kudos to go around on this one." He wiggled his eyebrows. "And, we can have our own very intimate celebration later." He pulled out his phone. "Right now I'm going tell Warner to bring my son home."


	53. Chapter 53

Ian

Chapter 53

"So what now?" Castle wondered as Kate threaded her way through the streets back to lower Manhattan and the Twelfth.

"Well if Gutman makes it, he'll be under guard at the hospital. We'll grill him there. Hayes didn't protect himself from radiation exposure, so he was headed for the hospital too. Espo went with him. If he's okay, at least for moment, and not dangerous to anyone else, we'll be able to question him at the precinct. Otherwise he'll be in isolation at the hospital." Kate ran a quick hand through her hair, pushing it way from her face. "The big question is Fallon. As far as we know, he's completely unaware of what went down at the warehouse. Montgomery is going to call him into the precinct for an update and we can grab him and question him there. When is Ian getting back to the city?"

"He has a video tournament with some of the year round boys in the Poconos, tonight," Castle related, "so Carl Warner is bringing him back in the morning. I'm keeping Warner and his operatives on for a while. I'm hoping for more information on the Burnham clan."

"That makes two of us Castle." A text dinged on Kate's phone, which she'd stuck in the center console. "Can you check that Castle? It's probably Montgomery.

Castle picked up the cell. "You're right. He says Fallon should be at the Twelfth in about half an hour." Castle looked around to gauge their location. "Um, Seventy-second Street. We should make it fine unless there's a tie up somewhere."

Kate tightened her hands on the wheel. "If there is, I'll use the siren and the gumball. I'll drive on the sidewalk if I have to. I'm not missing this."

Kate had just stowed her things in her desk at the Twelfth when Fallon strode off the elevator. He nodded brusquely at her, glared at Castle, and continued to Captain Montgomery's office. Montgomery motioned Fallon down the hall to the interview lounge, and catching Beckett's gaze, indicated with his eyes and a tilt of his head, that she and Castle should follow.

Fallon sat unnaturally erect in one of the soft chairs. "Captain, I suspect this could have been done with a phone call. What is the big revelation you reported you had with the case?"

Montgomery nodded at L.T. and Officer Harrison, who had appeared at the open door of the lounge. Montgomery, Kate, and Castle stood up and L.T. and Harrison both pulled their guns and trained them on Fallon. "The break is sitting right in front of me," the Captain stated. "We discovered your connection to Hayes and all his high school buddies, Fallon. You've had it. Much as I'd like to put you away myself, we'll be holding you until the FBI shows up. So hand over your gun, slowly."

For a moment, it appeared that Fallon was going to comply, as he slowly pulled his gun from his holster. Then quickly shifting it in his hand, he aimed at Montgomery and squeezed the trigger. The bullet grazed Montgomery's arm, leaving a bright smear of blood, and ricocheted off a metal filing cabinet, hitting Castle. L.T. fired multiple shots, downing Fallon. Harrison yelled back to the bullpen to call for help and rushed to Montgomery.

As much in surprise as pain, Castle stared down at the red stain spreading across his shirt and sank into a chair behind him. Kate urgently bent over him, pressing her hand to the wound. "Kate," Castle rasped, almost inaudibly. "You need to call Warner. He can't bring Ian back with me like this."

"You'll be fine, Castle. Help will be here in a minute."

"Kate, call," Castle repeated."

"I will Castle," she promised. He nodded and closed his eyes.

"Castle stay with me!" Kate shouted, pressing more tightly to staunch the flow of vital red fluid leaking through her fingers. "Come on!" Four paramedics rushed into the room and gently pulled her away. Two went to Montgomery and two worked on Castle. After applying a pressure dressing to Castle's wound and starting an IV, they eased him onto a gurney. Montgomery was alert and giving orders, but he was urged to lie down on one as well. Kate followed the paramedics out of the precinct, taking Castle's hand as he was gently loaded into an ambulance."I need to get his phone," she explained to the paramedics as she felt in Castle's pocket. "I promised I'd make a call for him." One of the paramedics nodded. Kate pulled out Castle's cell and found the contact number for Carl Warner.

* * *

The first thing Castle saw when his eyes agreed to focus was a drop of moisture at the corner of a sleeping Kate Beckett's mouth. He started to lift a hand to wipe it away and groaned as his body rebelled against the motion. Kate's lids flew upwards. "Did you call Warner?" Castle asked in a labored whisper.

Kate stroked the back of his hand. "I did. Don't worry about it Castle. Carl Warner won't bring Ian home until you're ready."

Castle exhaled in a painful sigh of relief. "Montgomery? Fallon?"

"Montgomery's fine. He was barely scratched, which is better than can be said for what the bullet did to you. He wanted to go back to work, but his wife Evelyn was having none of it. She's going to be standing over him for at least the next day with either chicken soup or a whip, whatever she needs. Fallon is dead, Castle. Lanie said he was dead before he hit the ground. L.T. took him out. Gutman is going to survive and he spilled his guts about Hayes' entire operation. The FBI should be able to round up everyone involved."

"How long?" Castle croaked.

"You were shot yesterday. They kept you sedated for a while. They didn't want you moving and disturbing their repair work."

"What did they repair?"

Kate smoothed back his hair in reassurance. "They wouldn't tell me, but your mother's been here. She went hunting for some decent coffee. She should be back in a little while. But anyway, they told her, and she presented the details to me with the dramatic flair befitting a diva, No major organs were hit, Castle, but you lost a lot of blood and a lot of tissue was torn up. That's going to take a while to heal, the doctors said..."

As if summoned by Kate's mention of the doctors, they were interrupted by the arrival of a nurse in in scrubs decorated with Batman symbols. "Welcome back to the world, Mr. Castle. Doctor Amberson is doing rounds. She will be in to talk with you very shortly. I just need to get your vitals and..." The nurse gave a look of reproof to Kate, then continued. "The doctor can answer any questions you have about your condition."

A solidly built and totally unruffled Dr. Amberson walked in a moment later, trailed by a gaggle of interns. Castle heard more than he'd ever wanted to about the intricacies of the repair of a chest wound. By the time the teaching session was over, he only had two questions for Dr. Amberson: whether he could have some water so he didn't sound like a frog and how soon the crowd would be out of his room. The answer to the former was yes and he was too polite to ask the latter.

Finally Castle was alone with Kate again, although afraid his mother would walk in at any moment. "Kate, can you locate my keys? I'm going to need you to check the mail at the loft. The results on the swabs I sent to the lab should be in today or tomorrow and I want to know the truth before I say anything to mother. I also need to know if I can trust what I heard about Sofia and the Burnham operation."

"All right Castle," Kate agreed. "I'll find them. And from the sound of what Dr. Amberson said, you should tell Carl Warner to bring Ian home too. He won't be alone and you'll be out of here pretty soon, although in Amberson's pedantic way I think she was saying you're going to hurt like hell. You've helped your son become a strong and resilient kid. He can handle this. And from the time I've known you both, I can tell you'll both feel better if you're together."

Castle opened his hand, in a silent invitation for her to take it. "You know Kate, I can see why you're such a damn good detective." Their fingers entwined as Martha watched knowingly from the doorway.


	54. Chapter 54

Ian

Chapter 54

Martha fussed over her son, quickly relating the details of the media coverage of his shooting, and also of a call she had received from Gina proposing turning the whole episode into a publicity bonanza. Castle quickly squelched the idea of a photo shoot, at least while he was in the hospital. Kate backed him up, saying there were details of the current case that needed to be kept confidential. Martha was warmed by the detective's quick defense of her son, and assured that Castle would be in good hands, excused herself to go the theater.

After Martha left, Kate found Castle's keys in the pocket of his pants, in the plastic bag of his personal effects which had been stowed in the stand next to his bed. She also gave Castle his cell phone, which she had had guarded for him since she made the call to Carl Warner in the ambulance. She smoothed back an errant lock of his hair and turned to go. "I'll go look for that report now."

* * *

Eduardo the doorman nodded at Kate as she entered Castle's building and walked the few steps to the mailboxes. When she used Castle's key on the one with his name, the box was stuffed so tightly that she nearly had to pry loose the accumulation of catalogs. It seemed that between Rick and Ian, they subscribed to just about every nerd friendly mail order house on the planet. She took the stack of publications and envelopes up to Castle's loft to sift through it. There was the expected assortment of bills, credit card offers, and charitable solicitations, and one envelope bearing a New Jersey postmark mark and stamped "Confidential." Though her natural curiosity made her fingers itch to open it, she shoved it in her over-sized purse, along with the rest of the paper mountain, and took it back to the hospital.

When Kate approached the hospital's main entrance, she was annoyed and appalled at being accosted by several paparazzi asking for her account of Castle's shooting. She brushed them off with a "No comment," and continued inside, leaving hospital security to cope with their attempts to follow her.

Castle looked asleep as she walked quietly into the room, but his eyes opened at her approach. "Was it there?"

Kate dug the envelope out of her bag, along with the rest of the postman's offerings. "Do you want me to open it for you?"

"Please," Castle urged.

Kate carefully slit the envelope with her knife and handed him the report inside without looking at it. "Castle?" she inquired as he scanned the page.

"This is only the preliminary," Castle noted. "They'll have more details for me later about my background, but he was telling the truth, Kate. My father is a spy. The way he was plugged in, he probably knows all about the shooting and that I have the test results. Hell he could have been shadowing you! I wonder if he'll show up again."

"I hope he does," Kate responded, "but not as a shadow. He's the only source of information we have on where Ida Burnham may be."

"I'd like to pump him about that too, and so many other things," Castle responded. "He probably knows who was on the grassy knoll and what's in Area 51. But Kate, I've had some time to think about things. I haven't been able to do much else. The CIA wouldn't just let go of their support on Capitol Hill. We can at least keep our eyes on what's happening in D.C.. Future Forward is still there, so are all the politicians they're connected to except for Hicks and Roum. If we keep our attentions on the down low and I don't spill anything else to Sofia, we should be all right. There's also a chance some crypto genius can unravel the Burnham's records. There may be clues there. Then if my father shows up again, all the better, but he waited almost forty years to make his first appearance. Who knows how long it will be before he makes another one?"

Kate nodded slowly. "You may have a point, Castle. Look, I have to get back to the Twelfth. With Montgomery out, I'm the senior person on the floor. Do you need anything before I go?"

"A kiss might speed the healing process," Castle suggested.

"I don't recall Dr. Amberson mentioning that," Kate teased.

"That was just medicine," Castle declared. "But a kiss from a princess would be magic."

Kate leaned over the bed to press her lips to his. "Alakazam!"

* * *

Kate's steps dragged as she made her way from the elevator to the bullpen. She'd slept in the chair next to Castle's bed, and even switched off with Martha a couple of times. But she'd already been way behind on sleep and had made little progress catching up. Ryan was just returning the receiver of his land line to its cradle. He held up a sticky note. "Beckett! We've got a fresh one!"

* * *

Kate guided her unit to the crime scene, following Ryan and Esposito. The area had already been taped off and secured by uniformed units, but the officers on the scene were working hard to keep curious onlookers back. Kate ducked under the tape. Her initial view of the body was blocked by Lanie Parish. "Hey Lanie! Why's this one doing so much to penetrate the normal New York blasé?" Lanie stepped aside so Kate could see. A body had been cleaved in half. "What could have done this?"

"According to a witness who called the cops, a sword. It would have had to be a really sharp one too," Lanie added, "and whoever did it would have to have been strong, I mean like eight hours a day in the gym strong."

"If we had a witness, did we get a description?"

"Better than that," Ryan interrupted. "I just talked to the first uni on the scene. Our witness, Kirby Backstrom, he's a film student. He heard screams in the alley beneath his window and started shooting video. And Beckett, you won't believe it."

* * *

Kate stared at the screen in Tech, after running the footage back for the tenth time."This can't be right. A costumed superhero stops our victim from raping a woman, then he cuts the guy in half with a samurai sword and just runs off? It's got to be a fake! What about the woman on the video?"

"She ran off too," Ryan replied. "We didn't get an angle we could use for facial recognition, either. There might be some DNA on the body from where our vic grabbed her. Lanie is checking." Ryan shook his head. "I don't know what to tell you Beckett. The time stamp is just before the 9/11 call and it jibes with Lanie's time of death. There wouldn't have been time to fake something like that. Tech analyzed the shadows too. The sun was at the right angle for the time of death. But it's a great costume, isn't it? It's a shame Castle isn't here. He would love this."

"He would," Kate concurred. "In fact, he will. I'm going to get Tech to rip me a copy of this and take it to him in the hospital. Superheroes are really a big thing for him and his son. Maybe he'll see something that we don't."

Ryan regarded the perplexing images on the screen. "Yeah, we could really use some of his eclectic expertise about now."


	55. Chapter 55

Ian

Chapter 55

Sitting up in bed, Castle paused the video Beckett had brought to the hospital on her laptop. He stared at the costumed figure on the screen. "That is a very well made costume. It could easily take a prize at a con, if it was of a recognizable character. But I've never seen this guy before, and he seems to be a hodgepodge of old characters rather than a new one." Castle pointed at the display. "See the horns? They're borrowed from Daredevil, the belt is like an old one of Ironman's and the sword is like Deadpool's. Whoever this guy is, he knows comics, but he's not much of an original thinker. And cutting an ordinary human in half, even a potential rapist? Not very superhero-like. I mean the vic would have to had killed his parents or something - and even then it wouldn't follow a superhero code of honor. Your sword wielder has a different kind of agenda. There's got to be some other motive for this kind of an execution."

"Like what, Castle?" Kate wondered.

Castle shrugged his shoulders and winced. "I don't know. What do you know about the victim? Isn't that where you usually start?"

"Castle, you're right, it is. He didn't have an ID on him, his prints weren't in the system, and the way he was split, we couldn't run facial recognition. But Tech photoshopped the halves of his face back together enough to get something the unis could use for a canvass. Last I heard, they hadn't found anyone who recognized him, or at least no one who'd admit to it, but they're still working on it. If they don't come up with anything, we may have to put the picture out to the media, and given the circumstances, that could result in a three ring circus."

"Why not have your detectives put it out to their CI's?" Castle suggested. "If your vic was involved in something outside the bounds of legality, it seems more likely you'd get something from them than from the general public. I have some underworld contacts I could try, but such things are best done in person and Warden Amberson isn't letting me out for at least a couple more days." Castle's eyes lit with an idea. "Wait, there's one you could try yourself, Sal Cardano. He's a sucker for beautiful women, although your badge might lessen the glow somewhat."

Kate's mouth fell open. "Sal Cardano, the capo for the Cardano crime family? Castle how do you know him?"

"He's a fan. He came to a book signing and offered me his expertise for making some of Derrick Storm's dealings with the mob more authentic. We had some terrific conversations. He hangs out at a restaurant the family owns. It has a great antipasto. And It's not far from the murder scene. That's one reason he might cooperate. The Family doesn't like stuff like this going down in their territory. It's bad for business. They prefer safe streets - except for anyone they have a beef against. And even then, they don't want a body turning up in their backyard. They don't want to spark any investigations. Go see Sal," Castle urged. "I'll write you a letter of introduction."

A bell tinkled as Kate pushed open the door of La Grotta. The atmosphere was a throwback, with high backed leather upholstered booths and '60's music playing in the background. Castle had told her that Sal Cardano always occupied the third booth at dinner hour. She immediately recognized the balding, well fed figure from his file. As she approached the table, he looked up at her with an appreciation that immediately vanished when he spied the badge on her belt. "Gorgeous as you are, I'm not holding any audiences for cops today, sweetheart."

"Maybe for a friend," Kate suggested, handing him Castle's letter.

Sal pulled a pair of reading glasses out of his shirt pocket and perched them on his nose. "You're here for Rick Castle? Sit down!" Kate slid into the booth. "How is the old hack? I hear he took a bullet."

"He's still in the hospital but he's doing okay, except for being bored. Actually that's why he sent me. He's trying to fill his time working on a case; the guy who was divided and conquered a couple of blocks from here." Kate showed Sal the picture Tech had cobbled together. "Do you know who this guy is?"

Sal stared down through his glasses. "So somebody finally took out that little shit. Yeah, I know him. He's Jimmy Spillano, errant son of Joey Spillano. Nobody's going to be shedding any tears over that one. Always trying to stick it where he shouldn't, if you know what I mean. The Spillano family was constantly having to clean up his messes. Maybe someone just had enough."

"So you think this was a hit?" Beckett queried.

"Well if it was, it was a lot more creative than two bullets to the back of the noggin, but also pretty stupid," Sal observed. "The Spillanos don't need the kind of attention Jimmy's death is attracting. None of the families do. If whoever did this is connected, he's gone off the reservation. So can I offer you some wine, Detective Beckett, maybe a bowl of pasta? The chef's at the top of his game tonight. The linguine is to die for - so to speak."

Kate smiled engagingly. "I appreciate the offer Mr. Cardano, but I want to check in on Castle before I go back to the precinct."

Sal regarded her appraisingly as she began to leave the booth. "I get it sweetheart. Tell Rick I send send my best."

"Castle has the strangest friends," Kate muttered to herself as she left the restaurant. She was about to return to the hospital when she got a text from Esposito. Their masked marauder had claimed another victim.

* * *

In an alley, Lanie stood up from bending over the half of the body containing the liver. She looked at Kate. "Looks like the same weapon as the last one. No ID on this body either. No wallet, no keys, no phone. I took prints, but I don't have anything back yet. Liver temp is 36C. He's only been dead about an hour."

Esposito pointed at a nearby back door labeled "Noodle Bowl". "Jian Wa, guy who works in the kitchen at that restaurant, discovered the body when he was putting garbage in the dumpster. He doesn't speak much English. We have Officer Lee coming over to take his statement. The owner, Tommy Chen, called 911, but he didn't see anything. Jian came in screaming, so Tommy picked up the phone."

"Alright, get Tech to make you a picture and start a canvass," Kate instructed. "A contact of Castle's gave me a potential ID on the last one. I need to double check it. I'm going back to see Castle now. Soon as I'm sure, I'll send you and Ryan all the details."

"Hey!" Castle greeted Kate. "I was just Facetiming with Ian. He's fascinated by this case, although he pointed out our perp is more of a super villain than a superhero."

"He's right about that," Kate declared. "We have another body. How does Ian feel about you getting shot?'

"He has mixed feelings about it," Castle confided. "He's scared and he's angry. He's angry at me for letting me get myself in the line of fire. He's angry at you too, for allowing me to be there. But he also seems to think there's an incredible cool factor about the whole thing. It's going to take some time to sort out. I'll have him come home when I'm out of here, as soon as I'm sure I don't look too pitiful. Kind of a shame I won't be wearing a sling though. It would fit the wounded hero archetype."

"Castle, you don't fit any archetype." Kate's shoulders suddenly slumped. "But he's right. I did let you get shot."

"Kate, there's no way that was your fault," Castle argued. "Fallon had two guns trained on him and he wasn't even aiming in my direction. It was an accident. But with you as a muse, I am considering looking into kevlar underwear."

Kate couldn't help laughing. "Castle, kevlar can be pretty itchy. I think you'll have to wear your underwear on the outside. But then again, that's what superheros do,"


	56. Chapter 56

Ian

Chapter 56

Kate paged through the reports she'd begged from her contacts in gangs. There were multiple mentions of Jimmy Spillano and his unwanted attentions toward women. There was no picture, but there was a description that matched the body. Lanie had found a tooth implant, possibly a consequence of one of Jimmy's victims fighting back. She was tracing the serial number and Kate expected to hear from her shortly. The prints had come back on the second body, identifying him as Rico Donato. Rico was tied to the Santini family and he had a considerable rap sheet, heavy on sexual assault. He'd never been convicted, with victims either unwilling to give statements, or in a couple of cases, having withdrawn statements they had given. If Jimmy Spillano really was the first victim, there was a definite pattern forming. The killer was not so much either a hero or a villain, but a vigilante, punishing those unreachable by the system. Gruesome as his acts were, she found herself not entirely unsympathetic.

Her phone dinged a text alert. Lanie had verified Jimmy Spillano's identity. Now the question was: who would want to track down sexual predators in the mob and also have the means to do it. She would have loved to put her head together again with Castle, but realized when she gazed at the over-sized watch on her wrist, that it was eleven P.M.. She hoped he'd be sleeping - and it wouldn't be a bad idea for her either. Sighing, she pulled her bag from a drawer in her desk, pulled on the leather jacket that she'd draped over the back of her chair, and headed for the elevator.

* * *

It was midnight and Castle was wide awake. Part of the problem was pain. He'd asked Amberson to back off on his meds, preferring to think clearly. But most of it was a mind that wouldn't settle. Images of superheros and flashing swords spun through his brain. Then there was Ian. When he'd spoken to Kate, he'd minimized his son's upset. But the fact was that even on the small screen of his phone, Castle could see the tears threatening to spill out of the boy's eyes. Ian was scared, not of vengeful drug dealers, but of being left alone. Castle couldn't blame him. While Ian had good times with Martha, she was constantly in and out of town. They loved each other, but Ian had never really counted on her for much. In many ways, the relationship was similar to what Castle'd had with her growing up, one that had left Castle forever feeling insecure. And Sheila Blaine, well neither of them wanted to think of what it would be like if she took charge of Ian's life.

Then there was Kate. Ian's trust of the warrior princess had taken a serious hit, more serious than Castle had let on. If Kate was going to continue as Castle's muse, and especially if the relationship would continue to grow in more intimate ways, that trust would have to be restored. Castle had no idea how that would work. Ian hadn't been nearly this stricken when Castle had been divorced from Gina. The boy had seen what she wanted much more clearly than Castle had. She had been using Castle to gain prestige in the publishing world, finally achieving it as she climbed up the ranks in Black Pawn. Ian had been glad to see Gina go. But Kate was different. She and Ian had struck a chord that had now become dissonant. The pain from the shattering of that bond was excruciating. Seeing Ian experience it wrenched Castle to his core. Castle hated the thought of backing away from Kate, but he hated the thought of a rift forming between him and his son even more. He felt a pressure in his chest not entirely arising from his wound, and struggled to find a comfortable position. There wasn't one.

* * *

After the morning visit by a nurse to change his dressing, Kate appeared in the doorway of Castle's room, smiling with enthusiasm Castle didn't share. She gazed at him in confusion when he half-heartedly returned her kiss. "You okay, Castle?"

"Just had a bad night," Castle dodged. "Probably should have let Amberson give me more joy juice. But you look fired up. What's happening with the case?"

"Found out our costumed slasher is going after mob affiliated victims who have victims of their own. Jimmy Spillano and our second one, Rico Donato, he's from the Santini Family, got their jollies assaulting women and until now, neither of them ever went to jail for it."

"Ah, and now they've paid for their sins at the hands of a lone avenger." Castle pulled himself up against his pillows. "Ooh! Lone Avenger, that's a great name! So where do you go from here?"

"Castle, I was hoping you could help me figure that out. I mean, should I try to go back to Sal Cardano? I don't think he had any idea who our killer is. The victims cross territories and family lines. So who would have the knowledge to pick them?" Kate puzzled.

"And the wherewithal to kill them, Castle added. "Didn't you tell me Lanie thought our guy had to be seriously strong? And on the video, he had some pretty substantial muscles under that costume - unless they were built in, like they are on a Batman suit. That suggests someone with serious dedication to weight training, maybe even steroid usage. Imagine someone swinging a samurai sword in the midst of a roid rage. Two halves for the slice of one."

Beckett grimaced at his turn of phrase.

"Two soon?" Castle asked.

Kate closed her eyes and shook her head. "A little bit, Castle. So what are you getting at?"

"Building a profile, Kate. We have someone who's familiar with the mob, maybe even part of it. He spends a lot of time pumping iron. Maybe has access to steroids. Likes comic books. Has expertise with a sword. Tech must have estimated his his height from the video."

"Yeah," Kate confirmed, they thought about five ten, which would make him pretty average."

"But the muscles wouldn't," Castle contended. "So you look for someone who spends a lot of time in a gym that gives sword training, probably a gym in in mob territory, and maybe one that has a reputation for dispensing steroids."

Kate nodded thoughtfully. "I might be able to make that work, Castle. Ryan has friends in narcotics. They don't cover steroids, but they're aware of them. He could reach out. We can get a map from gangs with a plot of mob territories on it and look at gyms that are known for steroid use, in those areas."

"You should check out the comic book stores within those boundaries too," Castle suggested. "I hate to admit it, but anime aficionados don't usually run toward ripped bods. Someone built like that would be noticed. In fact he'd probably be blogged and tweeted about. That's one thing I can check on while I'm still in my medical shackles. So why don't you go off and be the super-detective and I'll work on that."

"Sure Castle," Kate agreed, "I'll see you later."

See you later," Castle repeated.

Kate left the room, but a troubling thought kept niggling at her brain. "Castle had been way to happy to see her go."


	57. Chapter 57

Ian

Chapter 57

Castle swiped at eyes that insisted on blurring as he stared at his laptop. He had visited his normal forums looking for postings relating to buff comic book fans. There was nothing. The number of possible hashtags on Twitter was daunting and the number of possible search terms on Google overwhelming. He ran an unconscious hand through his hair and then winced at the pull on his chest. This search had been his idea and he was getting nowhere. As conflicted as his feelings about Kate were at that moment, he hated to disappoint her. Regardless of how Ian felt about her, for Castle, pulling back from Kate was more painful than getting shot, and it was pain that no scalpel or pill could fix. Castle would have to find a balance somehow. But it would still be days before Ian returned and the case was now. There had to be another way to go at it. An ad for Comicadia popped up on his screen reminding him that as much as comics fans now communicated online, that wasn't the only way they exchanged ideas. Comicadia still held face to face discussion groups and Castle knew the facilitator. He picked up his phone.

Merwyn (Prizzy) Prizac was one of a kind. Castle had known her since he was a teenager and she had changed little, except for the constantly rotating shades of her hair. The last time he'd seen her, there had been streaks of purple and orange, and before that it had been magenta and green. She was a fixture in Comicadia, behind the register, setting up displays and organizing activities. If anyone would know of a buff, sword-fighting, comic book fan it would be Prizzy. "Ricky!" she exclaimed on hearing his voice. "I was worried about you. What happened to you was all over the feed. How's our fanboy turned best selling author? And how's the talented son of yours?"

"I'm getting better Prizzy, and Ian is fine," Castle assured her. "But listen, I'm working with the N.Y.P.D. on the case of that cosplay killer who's been splitting his victim's assets. I was just wondering if you'd run across someone in our nerd kingdom who slings a sword, with Schwarzenegger muscles."

"Are we discussing a real person, Ricky?" Merwyn queried. "Because there are hundreds of guys like that, both on the page and on the screen."

"Real person, Prizzy," Castle confirmed, "and a pretty dangerous one."

Merwyn paused for a moment. "I don't know about the sword slinging, but there is a guy who's shown up here from time to time. He's not that tall, maybe about five ten, but he definitely has the muscles. He collects Daredevil and Deadpool and he's got a thing for old Ironmans. I have him in my file to contact when someone brings one in to trade."

"Prizzy, that's fantastic! Can you email me his contact info?"

"I don't know Ricky," Merwyn replied doubtfully. "You know we like to keep our customer information private, otherwise you'd have fans at your door all the time."

"Prizzy, believe me I appreciate your discretion, but your customer may have already killed two people and there may be other lives at stake. If it would make you feel better, I could ask the detective I work with to get a court order."

"Oh Ricky, the last thing I want is for the police to come charging in here. Alright, I'm pretty sure all I have is an email address, but I'll send it to you. But you owe me. I hear they're making a graphic novel out of one of your Derrick Storm books. The day it comes out, you're going to be here signing it."

"Deal Prizzy," Castle agreed, grinning at the phone.

"Take care of yourself Ricky," Merwyn urged. "Just let your characters take the hot lead from now on, okay?"

"Prizzy, I will try my best," Castle promised.

Castle leaned back against his pillows and sighed. At least he'd have something for Kate. Now he just had to figure out what to do about Ian.

* * *

Cory Jasper had switched off with Carl Warner. He watched Ian taking a despondent nibble at at a piece of pepperoni plucked from a slice of of Poconos' Prime Pizza. "Worried about your dad?" he asked.

Ian nodded. "I just wish he'd let me come home. All of his life he's taken care of me. I've seen how the parents of some of the other kids at school act. They barely show up. They don't know the teachers. They don't know the other kids. They have no idea idea what's going on. But my dad, he's always been there. And he understands, you know, about comics, games, everything. I thought it would be really cool when he started working with the police. And Detective Beckett, she was really cool too. But Dad was shot. He could have died. She was there, right there. And my dad still got shot. I don't know if I can ever see her again and think about anything but that. But Dad likes her, you know? Really likes her. I don't want to hurt him any more - but wow, she let him get shot. I don't know what to do. Did you you ever let anyone you were watching get shot?"

Cory leaned on his elbow across the table from Ian. "Not let. But there was someone I was assigned to, who got shot. Not just shot, killed. I wasn't even there. I was supposed to be, but my sister was getting married, so I switched off with a buddy. I was sure he could handle the job. He had the same training I did, the same experience, but something happened. The guy we were protecting was in an open area. There was no way to cordon it off. Anyone could come or go. The killer found a place to shoot from a hill where the sun was right behind him. When my buddy looked in the killer's direction, even with sunglasses, all he could see was glare. He never saw the shooter or the gun. There was nothing he could have done. If I had been there, there was nothing I could have done either. But I was still angry. I was angry at my buddy and even more furious at myself for not being there. I was angry for years. But Carl and I talked about it when he interviewed me for a job with him. We went over every detail. And when I saw it through his eyes, I finally realized that the anger was a waste. It was eating into my life. Unless I'd had a Tardis or something, there was nothing I or anyone else could have done."

"So what should I do?" Ian wondered.

"Talk to your father," Cory counseled. "Find out exactly what he remembers about the shooting. Then you might want to talk to Detective Beckett too. Let her describe what went down. Maybe she can let you see where it happened, so you can draw it, and understand the full picture for yourself. Then maybe you can let it go. You have at least a couple of days before you're going back to the city. Think about it."

Ian picked another piece of pepperoni off his pizza and began to tear it into fragments. He looked back at Cory. "Yeah, okay thanks man. I'll try."


	58. Chapter 58

Ian

Chapter 58

"Mr. Castle, you are to call me if you need anything," Myrtle Crispin instructed sternly as Castle settled into the familiar comfort of his own bed. "Can't have you putting any strain on those chest muscles."

"I will," Castle promised meekly. His mother's play was black for a couple of days and she had offered to stay with him. Kate had said she'd look in on him as often as she could, too. But it seemed less complicated to have a home aide for a while. Or at least it had seemed that way until Myrtle started doing a Nurse Crachet impression. Castle was feeling well enough that he had consented to have Ian come home. The boy was due to arrive any time with Cory Jasper. Castle heard the door of the loft opening and he pulled himself up. "That's got to be my son."

"You stay put and I'll send him in," Myrtle commanded, and bustled out of the room.

Ian shuffled into the bedroom quietly, his steps devoid of their usual bounce. "Hi Dad."

Castle opened his arms the best he could. "Can't give your old man a hug?"

"I wasn't sure if I could," Ian admitted. "I mean your bullet wound and all."

"Best medicine I know," Castle invited.

Ian awkwardly wrapped his arms around his father then stepped back, his face more serious than Castle had ever seen it. "Dad, Mr. Jasper thought I should ask you - about the shooting."

Castle gazed at his son's darkly earnest eyes. "Ian, you know that you can ask me about anything, right? Always, no matter what it is. If I don't want to tell you, I'll say so." Castle patted the bed beside him and waved his son to sit down. "So, what do you want to know?"

"Everything, I guess," Ian responded. "Where you were, where Detective Beckett was, how it all happened. That's if you remember. Mr. Jasper said when there's a trauma, sometimes people don't."

"Sounds like you and Mr. Jasper had quite a heart to heart," Castle observed. "I remember fine. I actually helped edit the incident report. I can give you whatever details you like, but it all boils down to this. A man named Fallon pulled a gun, even though the guns of two police officers were trained on him. His target was Captain Montgomery, who was grazed, but from what I've heard is fine. The bullet bounced off something and hit me. For that, Fallon paid with his life - and I'm still here, battered but unbound, unless you count Ms. Crispin. What else did you need to know?"

Ian swallowed nervously. "About Detective Beckett. I mean if Fallon was a killer, why didn't she take his gun away?"

Castle scrubbed a hand over his face. "That wasn't her choice, it was Montgomery's. He wanted to trick a confession out of Fallon, and Kate, Detective Beckett, did what he told her to. That's what cops are supposed to do, follow orders. It worked, by the way. Of course with Fallon ending up dead, that turned out not to make a difference."

"So why were you there?" Ian persisted. "How could she let you be there? I mean she's your..."

"Lover?" Castle inserted.

Ian squirmed uncomfortably. "I was going to say girlfriend, but yeah, Dad. You're not a cop. You don't even have a gun. I don't understand."

"Ian, sometimes the things people should have done seem really clear in hindsight. Looking back, I never should have married Gina. I should have known the doctors were wrong about what was happening with your mother and gotten third, fourth, and fifth opinions. I'd give anything to be able to go back and change that. But I can't, no one can. Montgomery set a scenario that would look normal to Fallon. I was part of that. Unlike Kate, I didn't have to go along with what Montgomery wanted, but I did. That was my choice. I wanted to see Fallon caught out. If there was a bad choice made, it was mine. I hope you can understand that and maybe even forgive me for it. Can you?"

Ian chewed on his lip in a way that reminded Castle of Kate. "Dad, I was never mad at you. And I'm still not sure. Can Detective Beckett show me where it happened?"

"Another one of Cory Jasper's suggestions?" Castle inquired.

One corner of Ian's mouth turned up. "Uh huh," he confessed.

"Well that will be up to Detective Beckett," Castle declared. "Do you want me to ask her or do you want to do it yourself?"

Ian squared his shoulders. "I can do it. I just need her number."

Castle reached for his cell phone which Myrtle had grudgingly allowed him to keep on his bedside table. "Then you shall have it."

* * *

Cory Jasper delivered Ian to Kate and told him he'd grab a cup of coffee while the two of them talked. Kate led the way to the interrogation lounge, which had been released by the shooting incident investigators, and cleaned. Ian held a sketch pad in tightly curled fingers. Hesitantly, he asked Kate where everyone had been. She pointed to where Fallon had been sitting. When she showed Ian the dent made in the filing cabinet by the bullet that had hit Castle, he felt as if he'd lost the ability to breathe. His fingers could no longer move his pencil over his sketch pad.

"Are you all right?" Kate asked.

Ian couldn't speak.

"You should get out of here now," Kate urged. "Mr. Jasper can take you back to the loft. "I'll..." The building rocked as the sound of an explosion whipped through the air. Kate shoved Ian behind the most solid chair, covered him with her body as best she could and pulled her gun. Cory Jasper came running, reaching for his own weapon, and used his bigger bulk to replace Kate over the boy. "Stay here!" Kate commanded, as crouching low and grasping her gun with both hands, she made her way to the bullpen.

Detectives milled in confusion, weapons drawn. Ryan spoke tersely on a landline to the Desk Sergeant. "It wasn't in the building, he announced, replacing the receiver in it's cradle. "A building down the block blew up. The fire department is on the way, but no one knows anything yet. The unis have just been dispatched."

Guns were holstered with shaky breaths. Kate returned to Ian and Cory. The latter took some convincing, but finally unfolded himself from his charge.

* * *

Despite Myrtle Crispin's misgivings, Castle had moved to the couch in front of the TV. Ian sat next to him as they watched the latest news on the explosion and fire at the Holo Bakery, near the Twelfth Precinct. With the burned out building as a backdrop, young and grim Carlos Ramirez related that the initial report from the fire department indicated that the explosion had been caused by an excess build up of flour dust, ignited by a spark from the equipment. He went on to say that authorities had speculated that since Holo had been close to bankruptcy, maintenance between inspections had been neglected, leading to five deaths and over forty injuries. Had the required procedures for maintaining a dust free environment been followed, the explosion would never have taken place.

Castle muted the sound as the reports continued. "Wow, when you think of dangerous, you think of guns and bombs, but flour?"

"I think Detective Beckett was thinking it was a bomb or something too," Ian offered. "She was all on top of me until Mr. Jasper came. She did everything she could to protect me. But there was no way she or any of the cops could have protected the people in the bakery. Before the explosion, she showed me everything about the shooting, Dad. It was like you said. There was nothing she could have done. I understand now, bad things can happen whether you're working with the cops or at a bakery."

"So does that mean you're going to give Kate another chance?" Castle asked, a flow of hopeful warmth rising tentatively through his body..

"Yeah, I will. But you know what?" Ian added, "I'm really sad about what happened to all the people at Holo but I'm really going to miss Holo Ding-a-lings."

"Yeah son," Castle commiserated, "me too."


	59. Chapter 59

Ian

Chapter 59

Castle sleepily reached for his cell phone as the opening notes of "Kiss Me Kate" emanated from the speaker. "Castle, we had to get a warrant first, bit we finally got the ID of the person using the email you got from your friend at Comicadia. His name is Vincent LaPaglia. According to Gangs, he's not mob connected, but he lives in mob territory. He's also on the customer list of one of the gyms we looked at. He trains with weights and kendo. Not much of a step from that to using a real sword. Ryan, Esposito, and I are going to go pick him up."

"That's great!" Castle exclaimed, instantly fully awake. "Damn, I wish I could go with you, but Ms. Crispin is standing at my door with her flaming sword."

"I'm sure that's for your own good, Castle, but yeah, I wish you could too. Maybe there's a way for you to get in on the interrogation," Kate suggested. "After all, you were responsible for finding him. And he is into the comic book world. Your expertise there could be helpful. I was thinking I could take my laptop into the box and you could join us on Skype. I'd be willing to bet Montgomery would sign off on that."

"He's back?"

"Oh yeah. I hear Evelyn wasn't too happy about it," Kate related. "She wanted an excuse to spend more time with him. But you know the captain, he couldn't stay away, and medical okayed it. He is desk bound until he can re-qualify on the range though. He's not going out without his weapon."

"I can understand that. Men are very attached to their guns," Castle quipped. "Maybe my joining you on Skype will be just as well. I want to spend some time with Ian before he goes back to school this morning, so the timing should work out just about right. Can you call me when you're set up?"

Castle could hear Ryan's voice calling in the background. "I will," Kate promised. "Gotta go."

With Castle on her screen, Kate stared across the table at Vincent LaPaglia. He reminded her of a pile of rocks, barely covered by the Ironman t shirt he wore tightly stretched across his chest. "Why am I here?" he demanded, "who's the guy on the computer?"

"A fellow traveler and friend of Prizzy's" a slightly tinny version of Castle's voice answered through the laptop speaker. "I'm their comic consultant."

"I don't don't understand," Vincent protested.

"Mr. LaPaglia, are you aware of the superhero murders that have been taking place?" Kate queried.

"I don't live in a cave," he retorted. "And I'm not sure I'd call them murders. Seems like the scumbags he took out got what was coming to them. But what do they have to do with me?"

"Mr. LaPaglia, the person who committed those crimes, and they were crimes, was familiar with the superhero world." Kate inclined her head toward his shirt. "You obviously are as well."

"So are the millions of people who go to see Avengers films," Vincent pointed out. "What of it?"

"That person," Kate continued, "needed the strength and expertise to cut someone in half with a sword. We believe that is also you, Mr. LaPaglia. The crimes took place in the area where you live and train. Mr. LaPaglia, if we were to search your apartment, would we find a superhero suit?"

Vincent crossed his bulky arms across his equally bulky chest. "I want a lawyer."

"I'll bet you do," Castle interjected.

* * *

Kate knocked on the door of the loft and was reluctantly admitted by Myrtle Crispin. "You be careful with him," she commanded, shaking her finger in Kate's face. "No hanky panky. Those repairs the doctors made could still come loose if he exerts himself too much."

"Yes Ma'am." Kate replied meekly.

"Was the warrior princess singed by the dragon's fire?" Castle teased as Kate came into his room.

Kate kissed him gently. "Minor burns. I think I'll survive."

"So tell me what happened with LaPaglia," Castle requested.

"Well, your call to Judge Markway helped. We got a warrant to search LaPaglia's apartment." Kate brought up a picture on her phone. "We found this. It was was in a box hidden in a suspended ceiling."

"The suit!" Castle exclaimed, his grin almost splitting his face.

"Yeah, and there's more. CSI found blood on it from both victims." Kate kissed him again, more enthusiastically. "We've got him Castle! His lawyer advised him to cop a plea and he's going to give us his statement tomorrow. Apparently he needs time to put together his story in the most sympathetic way he can."

I'd love to hear that," Castle said. "My doctor said I can take a short jaunt now. I had to show the email to Crispin and she accused me of faking it. She insisted on calling her, herself, but Amberson confirmed I can manage a cab ride to the Twelfth."

"That's great Castle," Kate smiled saucily. "And what did she say you could manage tonight? The guardian of your keep warned me off making you exert yourself."

Castle wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Not much exertion involved in dinner and a movie. We could order Chinese and cuddle on the couch. I can bribe Crispin. I've noticed she's had a lean and hungry look on her face when Ian's been nuking egg rolls. Cory's with Ian upstairs. I'll order enough to feed everyone, and extra egg rolls for the her. That should bank her fire for a while."

Having skipped both breakfast and lunch, Kate's stomach rumbled longingly at the mention of food. "That sounds good Castle, really good."

* * *

Kate was flanked by Castle and A.D.A Toni Gonzalez as Vincent LaPaglia, accompanied by his lawyer, began his story. "You need to understand, those guys Joey Spillano and Rico Donato..."

"The men you killed," Toni interrupted.

LaPaglia sighed. "Yes the men I killed. They were rapists. They shouldn't have been on the street. But you people couldn't put them away. Donato, he attacked my sister. She never got over it. She got into drugs, died of an overdose. But that motherfucker walked away. Joey Spillano was just as bad, maybe worse. He was just better at avoiding being caught. Someone had to take care of men like that once and for all and the cops weren't going to do it. The women they assaulted, the ones that survived, needed a hero. I've been reading about heroes all my life. I'm strong. I'm trained. I could do the job and I did it. At least now my sister can rest in peace."

"The heroes in comic books rarely kill," Castle pointed out. "They have a code."

"Yeah, and look what happens when they don't take a villain out. He just comes back again and again, sowing more pain and destruction. Death is the only way to end it, and that's what I did. I think that's what any brother would do."

"No it isn't, Mr. LaPaglia," Kate disputed. "Very few brothers would go around cleaving someone in half with a sword."

"Mr. LaPaglia," Toni put in. "this has all been recorded and there will be a transcript to sign, but just to reiterate, you are admitting to killing Joey Spillano and Rico Donato."

"I'm admitting to putting down Joey Spillano and Rico Donato," LaPaglia returned, "like the rabid animals they were."


	60. Chapter 60

Ian

Chapter 60

Castle had been catching up on the writing both for his current novel and the one he was writing ahead, when Kate arrived at the loft. Admitted by a slightly more willing Ms. Crispin, Kate found Castle in his office. He looked up, immediately reaching for her hand, and pulled her toward him for a kiss. "I'm so glad you're here. I've been sparring with your counterpart all day."

Kate's eyebrows rose. "Sparring?"

"Well she did kick my character in the face, but she didn't mean to. She'll make it up to him later. But you've been in the real world. How did things shake out with LaPaglia?"

"We checked his story. His sister was raped and she did die of an overdose. The rape kit was 'lost' somehow and there wasn't enough other evidence to charge Donato, so he got off. You know, given the circumstances, I'm surprised LaPaglia's lawyer didn't decide to put him before a jury," Kate mused. "He might have garnered some sympathy. But as it was, Toni knocked the charges down to second degree and she's going to ask that the sentences run concurrently. LaPaglia will get out someday."

"It would really be a great story if it had a different ending," Castle offered. "Maybe someone will write the comic some day."

"You could," Kate suggested. "You could write it and Ian could draw it."

Castle shook his head slowly as the creases bracketing his mouth deepened. "No, at least not for Ian. I don't want to expose him to the rape theme now. His art is still light-hearted and I'd like to keep it that way as long as possible. You understand that. Your first instinct was to protect him. So is mine. I've seen enough darkness for both of us."

The tension in his face relaxed as Kate ran her fingers over his cheekbone. "I understand Castle." Kate spied an envelope on the corner of his desk. "More information from the genetics lab?"

"I haven't opened it yet," Castle confessed. "After all the fanciful things I've made up about my heritage over the years, the truth might be a letdown. If there's some sort of dreaded disease or something in my future, I'm not sure I'm ready for that."

"Castle, it would seem unlikely, since both your parents are still around," Kate observed.

"Alive anyway, not around," Castle corrected grimly. "And no more unlikely than having a father who's a spy. I mean, who would ever believe that a secret agent impregnated their mother then took off into the night. That sort of a manuscript would generate an immediate rejection letter."

"I can open the envelope and look at the report for you," Kate offered.

Castle smiled wryly. "Okay, any news would be improved by coming from your glorious lips."

Kate picked up the envelope and examined the contents. "Castle, I don't see much to worry about. It looks like your ancestry on your father's side is mostly German, with a little French thrown in. You've got a recessive gene for red hair, so if you have a child with someone who has one too, you could have a ginger. Hmm."

"What?" Castle demanded anxiously.

"It's not bad, Castle," Kate responded hastily, "just interesting. You have a gene for something called a floating scalp."

Castle laughed and mimed adjusting a hairpiece. "They must mean this. It totally freaked out my mother the first time I did it. It was always fun when class got too boring at school, although it bought me some detention."

Kate rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "Yeah, I could just see a teacher's reaction to you doing that in class, Castle." She handed him the report. "Those were the highlights. You can read the rest of it yourself. I guess the really interesting information will come if your father shows up again. I wish he would. We haven't gotten anything further on Ida Burnham and company."

"Well now that we're past dirty bombs and costumed cleavers, maybe we can look into what happened to them again. There are a lot of conspiracy sites I've used as fodder for my Derrick Storm books. Some of the stuff they've posted has actually turned out to be true," Castle added. "It's sort of reminiscent of the Men in Black using tabloids as tip sheets. The princes of paranoia may have picked something up. You can never tell. And it would be nice to know Ian won't need a bodyguard anymore, although Carl's been great with him and Cory's been terrific."

"I've seen that," Kate agreed. I'll see what I can do too, Castle. "I can check on crypto results again."

"While seeing that we are otherwise between cases, What would you like to do tonight?" Castle wondered.

"You're asking as if you have something in mind, Castle," Beckett observed.

"What I'd have in mind is unfortunately still for another time," Castle admitted. "But Ian had a thought. He was wondering if you wanted to try out a new game he discovered while he was in the Poconos. It's Magicians of Varnac. He's really been taken by it."

"Not that I'm exactly a gaming aficionado, Castle, but I've never heard of that one. Is it new?"

"Brand new," Castle explained. "It's actually still in beta. But Ian got a code to download it. No swords. That might be a relief after our last case. No guns either."

"Then how do the battles take place?" Kate wondered.

"It would probably be better if I had Ian show you," Castle responded. "That's if you're game." Castle regarded the challenge in Kate's narrowed eyes. "Wow, yeah, as if I'd have to ask if you wanted to meet a challenge. Okay, there's deli I had delivered earlier, in the fridge. We can fortify ourselves and then be transported to the Magician's Lairs."

After helping rapidly empty the platter of savory meats and cheeses along with consuming the majority of the coleslaw, Ian was eager to instruct Kate in the fine points of his new game. "It's all about earning magic and learning to channel and use it. And the graphics are pretty incredible too. It was all done by live action capture, so no one moves like Jar Jar Binks. The characters look real, and it feels real when you're one of them. Once you pick an avatar, you're assigned tasks, but there are obstacles, answering riddles really. If you figure out the answers, you gain power and wisdom to use the magic. If you try and you get an answer wrong, you end up in the mazes of Kircheron and you have to work your way out. So you have to be smart and quick."

"You're certainly both of those," Castle encouraged Kate.

The riddles given were given in audio as well as on the screen, removing any disadvantage Ian might have suffered because of his reading difficulties. He soon took the lead, but as Kate and Castle grew accustomed to the game, they began to catch up. Ian eventually achieved the Master Magician rank which enabled him to shape a barrier spell which blocked their progress, and Kate and Castle both declared him the worthy winner. Castle proudly watched his son bounding up the stairs to his room to complete a drawing, before the boy retired for the night."

"Challenges or no challenges, that's one smart kid, Castle," Kate remarked. "Those riddles weren't easy."

"I know," Castle agreed. "He can already out-think me - and you too - and he hasn't even got a driver's license yet. Kate, as a father, I think I'm in deep trouble."

Kate carefully snuggled into his side. "Castle, it looks to me like a terrific kind of trouble to have."


	61. Chapter 61

Ian

Chapter 61

Castle strode into the bullpen at the Twelfth and settled into his chair next to Kate's unoccupied desk. The rough fabric that covered it was worn and the frame slightly out of alignment, but it felt comforting against his back. Ian had been back in school for days and Castle was finally able to bid farewell to the formidable Ms. Crispin. He no longer needed anything for pain except the occasional ibuprofen. The world was looking pretty good, except for the continuing mystery of the disappearance of Ida Burnham and her associates. But Castle had a clue. A story in an obscure conspiracy rag had caught his eye. Kate had said she was going to be in the precinct late that morning and he was anxious to tell her in person.

The door to Roy Montgomery's office opened and Kate came out, the set of her jaw a clear indication to Castle that she less than pleased. But her face softened when she saw him. "Hey, glad you made it."

He touched her hand as she sank into her own chair. "Something wrong?"

Kate pushed her hair back from her face and drummed a pencil on the desk. "Montgomery doesn't want me putting any more time into the whole Ida Burnham thing, He says it's a closed case and I should move on."

"Well he might be right, for the wrong reason." Castle pulled a printout from his jacket pocket and unfolded it for her to read.

" _A man was walking his dog in the Maldives when the usually placid animal began to bark and paw the ground. Curious, the man returned to his home for a shovel. He uncovered three bodies in an unmarked grave. When they were examined by local authorities, they were found to be two women, one in her late seventies or early eighties, one middle aged, and one man. The bone structure indicated they had been Caucasian and the middle aged woman was of well above average size. All looked to have been professionally executed by two shots to the back of the head and all had been killed with the same gun. The identities of the victims are not known, as the bodies were too decomposed for fingerprints, but a CIA cell is rumored to be based in the area and the deaths bear all the hallmarks of wet boy work. This reporter finds this yet another example of U.S covert operations run amok. The killing of a harmless_ _old woman_ _and her companions is clearly a travesty. As always, this publication recommends a complete review and overhaul of U.S. foreign operations._ Kate put the paper down _._ Castle, you think the bodies were Ida Burnham, Roum, and Marx?"

"Kate it all fits," Castle asserted. "The description matches. The Maldives is a non-extradition country. Ida's group could have thought they were settling there for a comfortable existence living off their ill-gotten gains. Then when the story faded from the headlines, the CIA came in and tied up their loose ends. They just didn't count on some guy's dog having a thing for cadavers. Even so, it's only a matter of three unidentified bodies, and this publication has a smaller readership than the local Nickelsaver. No one will take the story seriously."

One corner of Kate's mouth twitched upward. "Except for you, Castle. Okay, I admit, the details fit. And if your father was right, Sofia could have given the order. But how will we ever know for sure? After what Montgomery said, I'm in no position to make any inquiries."

"And isn't that convenient?" Castle commented in a surprisingly good imitation of Dana Carvey's Church Lady. "No seriously, Kate, isn't it possible that Montgomery got word from on high somewhere? Look, you may not be able to do anything, but I can. I'd love to send Clark Murray to the Maldives to have a look at those bodies, but he works for the city. I'm going to get him to recommend someone who can do the job. I imagine if the right palms are crossed with silver, access to those bodies can be bought. There's got to be something about at least one of them that will confirm an identity."

"That sounds expensive Castle. And I think maybe you've been watching too many episodes of _Bones_. Are you sure you want to do it?" Kate questioned.

"Less expensive than having to keep bodyguards on Ian for the rest of his life. Besides, the poor kid can't even go on a decent date. And I'd rather not have to keep looking over my shoulder. Wouldn't you?"

"I would," Kate conceded. "well if you think you can make it happen, go ahead. Montgomery has no control over you. In the meantime, are you ready for another case?"

"Why? Did another body drop? I would think Montgomery would have been more interested in talking about that."

"Well the trouble is, Castle," Kate explained, "We're not sure. There was a large quantity of blood found on the sidewalk. Lanie thinks it is enough to indicate someone bled out. But the facts don't fit together. Someone thought they heard gunshots at about six forty-five this morning. But someone else saw a van speed off at seven fifteen. Now who would shoot someone and leave half an hour later?"

"Is there a crime scene? Can I see it?" Castle inquired.

"Yes," Kate confirmed. "It's all taped off and the unis are guarding it until we can figure out what happened. Maybe you'll see something our people missed. At least Montgomery will approve of taking another look at a current case, or at least a potential current case. We could go now."

"Great!" Castle agreed. "I can call Murray and get a referral on the way. Might as well get both balls rolling."

* * *

The stain on the sidewalk was huge. Castle could seen why Lanie insisted that whoever's blood had created it had to be dead. There were no bloody footprints, but Castle pointed to a vague imprint at the edge of the stain. "Kate what's that? It looks a little like part of the outline of a woman's body, except that the proportions aren't right."

"Yeah, Castle. CSU noticed that too," Kate related. "But there was no sign of hair or fibers. Nothing to indicate a body. They didn't know what it was."

"You mind if I take a picture?" Castle queried. "An idea might strike me."

"Have at it, Castle," Kate invited. "No one else has any ideas." Castle snapped several angles with his phone, which dinged with a text while it was in his hand.

Castle swiped and read the message. "It's from Dr. Murray," he reported. "He sent me contact information for a consulting forensic pathologist. I need to call, and with any luck, start making some arrangements."

"You want me to drop you by the loft, Castle?" Kate offered.

Castle shook his head. "No, I'd be too tempted to ask you to stay, and we both have things to do. I'll catch a cab. But can you come over when you're off shift? Ian will be at one of his tutoring sessions tonight and I'm allowed to enjoy the fruit of the vine again, no magic pills. I could open a bottle of wine and we could have a little alone time."

Kate stretched up to give him a quick brush on the lips. "After Ms. Crispin, I can barely imagine what that feels like, but I can't wait to remember."


	62. Chapter 62

Ian

Chapter 62

The muscles in Castle's chest still twinged a little as he pulled the cork from the bottle of red wine, but he didn't care. It would be his first evening alone with Kate since he'd been shot. He'd arranged to have forensic pathologist Nora Fremont travel to the Maldives to see what he hoped would prove to be the bodies of Ida Burnham, Christine Roum, and Jason Marx, and he and Kate had a new case. The only thing that kept intruding into his more immediate thoughts was the imprint in the blood at the presumed murder scene. The shape was so familiar.

The doorbell buzzed. Castle opened the door, revealing a Kate he hadn't expected to see. He'd assumed she'd come straight from the precinct and still be clothed in her detective persona. The figure before him looked anything but on duty. A black sheath ended inches above her knees, revealing endless legs. Her feet were shod in four inch stilettos, enhancing the effect, and bringing her almost to his height. Her lips were a succulent red and a flush heated her cheekbones. Soft waves of hair framed her face. For a moment, Castle just stood staring in silence.

The perfect brow furrowed. "Castle, are you all right?"

Castle swallowed. "Just stunned. You are stunning!" Suddenly he remembered he was blocking the door way and took a step back. "Come in. Come in."

"I had a little help from Lanie," Kate admitted.

"Remind me to send her a thank you note, maybe even a fruit basket," Castle murmured, leading Kate to the couch before returning to the kitchen to fill two glasses with wine. Castle pushed a button on a remote control in his pocket and soft music began to fill the room. Vanilla and spice hung in the air from scented candles.

Presenting Kate with her glass, Castle slid beside her. "What are we drinking to?" Kate queried.

"Do we have to drink to anything?" Castle wondered. "how about just relaxing, listening to the music, and enjoying the moment?"

"I didn't know you were into classical, Castle."

"Side effect of watching Sesame Street with Ian when he was little. They had all kinds of performers on like Izhak Perlman and Yo Yo Ma. You're listening to Yo Yo Ma now; Bach cello concertos. Ian was really interested in trying to draw Yo Yo's feet because of the way they turned out when he played the cello." Wine sloshed in Castle's glass as he jerked upright. "Kate, that's what that imprint in the blood was. It was a cello case. Maybe our victim was a cello player!"

"Or our killer was," Kate speculated. "But we can start a search for missing cello players." She put her glass on the coffee table and took Castle's glass from his hand to place it next to her own. "Tomorrow." Gently framing Castle's face with her hands, she brought his head toward her own until their lips met. The touch was light at first, a soft meeting, tangy with red wine. But the pressure increased as heat flared between them, their tongues questing in a sinuous dance. Kate straddled his lap, feeling his arousal against her own growing need. She plunged her fingers in his hair, pressing herself against him, desperately striving for deeper contact. Her words rasped huskily from her throat. "Castle, I need..."

He reached between them, stroking her through the newly dampened silk she wore. The tips of her hair brushed against her waist as her head fell back. She writhed against his fingertips. "Kate," Castle whispered, "We need more than this. We both need more than this, more than we should do here. Come to bed. Come to bed with me."

Kate pulled back, her breath coming in gasps."Are you sure you're ready, Castle?"

He rose from the couch, pulling her up with him. "More than ready." He led the way to the bedroom. An ivory satin covered comforter topped a bed made up with fresh ivory linens.

"Castle, let me do the work," Kate urged, pushing him backward to the soft surface. She slipped her dress over her head, revealing a lacy bra and matching panties still warm from Castle's touch and her own internal fire. Castle's belt buckle fought her fingers, but she jerked the leather loose and quickly attacked his zipper. Unable to bear waiting any longer, Castle reached for what coverings remained on her body, while she pulled at his clothes.

Breath hissed from Castle's lips as he was released from confinement, and his body convulsed as Kate pressed her lips to his urgency. "Kate!"

She rose above him, sheathing him within. He reached for the pink tipped creamy globes pleading for his attention as Kate rode. She bucked wildly as desperation flooded through her body. He reached down again, caressing the hardened bud of her desire. She moaned as the sensation that had no name spread through her, her muscles contracting in time to its call, and screamed her triumph as he responded within her. As the waves shaking her retreated, she fell against his chest and lay oblivious.

As consciousness slowly returned, Kate could feel the puckered scar beneath her breasts and rolled to Castle's side. "You all right, Babe?"

Castle reached out to stroke her cheek. "Never better."

"Kate pushed herself up and began to reach for her discarded garments. "I should get out of here. Won't Ian be coming home soon?"

Castle reached for her arm. "He will. But he's gotten past the shooting. You can stay. I wish you'd stay."

"Castle," I just don't feel right about it - yet. It's not just Ian. It's Cory or Carl or whoever he'll have with him. I just..."

Castle sighed. "I guess I understand. And there won't be bodyguards forever. Hopefully not much longer. Kate, this will all straighten out."

Kate kissed him gently before starting to pull her bra back on. "Yeah, I know it will, Castle. In fact I'm counting on it."

Castle rose early the next morning in urgent need of coffee. While the pot was brewing he decided to make bacon and use the drippings to fry omelets. Ian bounded down the stairs following his nose."Real bacon instead of that turkey stuff! Alright Dad! Grandma stop bugging you about cholesterol?"

"She backed off during my convalescence. I guess she figured Crispin could carry on her good works. But Crispin is gone and I did my own shopping yesterday, so the real stuff it is, at least for today. And I can use the energy. We have a new case, or at least I think we do. We haven't found a body yet. Just a really huge bloodstain."

"Dad that's weird. Who would take a body?"

"Igor?" Castle quipped. "You know actually that's a really good question, and one nobody's asked yet. Someone thought they saw a van speed off, long after the murder - if there was one - took place. If we can figure out who was in it, it may take us a step closer to figuring out what happened, or even who was killed. If I know Ryan, he'll be in Tech staring at the traffic footage from around the crime scene. I need to get into the precinct and see if he's found anything."

Castle started to head for the door. "Dad," Ian called after him, "bacon."

Castle turned back to grab a slice. "Thanks. I'll eat it on the way."


	63. Chapter 63

Ian

Chapter 63

Observing that Kate was not at her desk as he emerged from the elevator at the Twelfth, Castle strode straight to Tech. As Castle had predicted, Ryan was there, scanning video footage. "Where's Beckett?"

Ryan turned around. "Oh hi, Castle. Beckett went down to talk to Missing Persons, something about cello players. I've got something here about our wandering corpse, I think. See this white van? I picked it up on camera a block from the scene. The time stamp is seven seventeen, which is about right, and it's definitely exceeding the speed limit. You can see the plate just fine. Traffic will probably mail them a ticket. I was just about to run it."

"There's some kind of sticker on the back window," Castle noted.

"You're right," Ryan agreed, enlarging the image. "My brother-in-law gave my sister a necklace with that symbol on it. That's the Celtic sign for eternity."

"I can check it against logos and trademarks while I'm waiting for Beckett," Castle proposed.

"Good idea. You go ahead with that," Ryan advised, turning back to the screen and pulling out his cell.

Castle took his seat next to Kate's desk and took out his own phone. After plowing through way too many references to perfume, Castle was paging through other businesses employing eternity themes and symbols, when Kate arrived. "Oh Castle, good, you're here! We have a possible ID on our victim. A man was reported missing last night. Nothing's been pursued yet because it's been less than twenty-four hours. But Castle, he's a cellist, and not just any cellist. It's David Cohen. Some critics think he's even better than Yo Yo Ma. And the impression from a cello case? He has a Stradivarius. It's worth millions."

Castle's eyebrows flew up. "Ah, the first of the classic motives, money. Ryan found something too, the van that pulled away. I've been checking on the symbol that was on it, while Ryan runs the plate."

"Castle, let's put that on the back burner for a moment. His wife was the one who reported him missing. I thought we'd go see her."

"Sounds good. The woman behind the man is often the most interesting character. And I can continue with what I was doing, on the way," Castle added.

Golda Cohen's eyes were alert but worried. The panoply of wrinkles on her face suggested that her hair should be gray or white, but it was concealed under a dark brown wig. Her sleeves were long and what showed of her legs beneath an unadorned skirt, was covered with dark stockings. She invited Kate and Castle to sit on the couch and took a chair several feet away. "I didn't expect you," she confessed. "When I called to report David's disappearance, I was told I would have to wait."

"Some things have happened that may have a connection to your husband," Kate explained. "When was the last time you saw him?"

"I told that Sergeant Weber that already," Golda responded, her annoyance evident. "He left our apartment at six A.M. yesterday to go to the practice hall. I called and checked. He never arrived."

"Did he have his cello with him?" Castle inquired.

"Well of course he did," Golda replied impatiently. "A practice hall wouldn't be much good without it. Of course he has more than one, but he took his Strad. He wanted exactly the same feel and sound he would get in the concert he has scheduled Sunday."

"Do you know if anyone saw him at all, yesterday?" Kate queried.

"No one I could think to call," Golda reported, "and I went through everyone we know in New York."

"Was it his habit to go to the practice hall that time of day? Did you notice anything different about his routine?" Kate questioned.

Golda closed her eyes for a moment, as if picturing her husband's departure. "He usually went to the hall about that time, but there was one thing that was unusual. He was wearing a watch, a fairly large one. He never does that when he's playing, he says it throws off his feel. When I saw it, I just assumed he'd take it off and use it for timing or something, but as far as know, he's never done that. He's never even used a metronome. He has a God given clock that runs in his head."

Kate nodded and continued. "Did he drive a car?"

Golda's eyes flashed angrily. "Again, something I already told the police. No David did not drive a car. We don't even own one. Who needs a car in New York? Unless he's traveling during the crowded hours, he usually takes the subway. Otherwise, he takes a cab. At that time of the morning the subway would have been likely."

Kate stood and Castle immediately followed her lead. She handed Golda her card. "If you think of anything else at all, day or night, give me a call. I will let you know if we find anything."

Kate studied Castle's face as they returned to her unit. "Castle, I know that look. You caught something in what Mrs. Cohen said. What was it?"

Castle rubbed the back of his hand under his chin. "Maybe nothing. But Kate, when I was searching through companies that use the symbol that was on the back of that van, I found one for a cryogenics facility called Eternity. When I read their sales pitch, they said they give their clients special watches that send out a signal when a person dies so the body can be picked up in time to be preserved. That would account for the van speeding off so long after the witness heard the gunshots. If Eternity got a signal from the watch, they would have needed time to get there and pick up the body and they definitely would have been in a hurry to put it in cold storage."

"I'll check with Ryan. He should have an owner back on that plate." Kate made the call. Her eyes widened as she listened to Ryan. "Castle, that van did belong to Eternity. And I have an address."

* * *

Eternity looked like a cross between a spaceship and a mausoleum, with the symbol Castle had seen on the van displayed prominently over the door. An attendant ushered Kate and Castle into the office of the director, Dr. Bartley Rio. Rio hurriedly tucked a form he had been studying into a folder, before looking up and carefully regarding Kate's badge. "What can I do for the N.Y.P.D., Detective?"

"We are trying to track down a possible client of yours, a David Cohen," Kate explained.

"He might have required your services yesterday morning," Castle added.

"Well I am very sorry," Rio declared. "We are forced by circumstances never to reveal our clientele, even to the police. There are often family problems that arise if it becomes known that someone wishes to avail themselves of our services. The laws regarding inheritance from a life in suspension are presently quite murky and potential heirs have been known to become very disruptive. If you want information on any of our clients, I am afraid you'll have to come back with a court order. Otherwise my hands are tied. Again, I apologize, but I have no choice."

"Fine, Dr. Rio," Kate responded. "But I assure you we will be back."

"Kate!" Castle exclaimed as they left the futuristic building, "Cohen is there. I saw his name on that sheet Rio tried to hide."

"Good Castle. That was something in plain sight. We can put that on the affidavit I submit to the judge."

Castle's phone dinged a text alert. "Kate, this is from Nora Fremont, the forensic pathologist I hired. She's wheels down in the Maldives. With any luck, we should hear something about the bodies there soon."

"She's one, actually three, up on us Castle," Kate remarked "At least she has bodies."

"I suppose," Castle mused. "But we're hoping she proves Ida, Christine, and Jason are dead. That would be good news. If we confirm David Cohen is a corpsicle, that's going to be a sad loss to his wife and to the world, at least for now. Who knows? They might be able to bring him back someday.."

"Castle, that would be great. But right now," Kate reminded him, "we need to deal with the present. And in the present, David Cohen is most likely the victim of a murder and we need to solve it."


	64. Chapter 64

Ian

Chapter 64

Judge Markway was in a mood. He had been one stroke away from winning a tournament and he had missed a putt. A three foot putt! He kept replaying it in his head and getting angrier at himself every time. When Kate Beckett knocked on his door, he was not feeling generous. But Rick Castle was there. Rick hadn't been on the links much lately. Of course the man had been shot, but it had been longer than that would account for. Nevertheless Rick knew the game well enough to understand Markway's frustration. "Did you hear?" Markway demanded of Castle.

Castle had made a point of catching up on any Markway gossip on the way to the courthouse, and nodded. He laid a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "You know, I heard that Warren the Weedwacker came through there before you and made a serious divot. He could have disturbed the grass more than enough to deflect the ball. It wasn't your fault. Normally, you could have made a shot like that with your eyes closed."

Markway brightened. "Really? I knew he was in the group ahead of me but I had no idea. You know, we really should have lunch and catch up. When was the last time you gave yourself time to play a good eighteen rounds?"

"It's been a while," Castle admitted. "I'm working on a couple of books, Ian keeps me hopping and then of course there have been the cases Detective Beckett and I have been working on together."

"Which is, of course, why you're here," Markway concluded turning to Kate. "What do you need, Detective?" Kate quickly explained the need for the court order, with Castle adding that he had seen David Cohen's name.

"Needing a court order to confirm you have a victim, that's a new one," Markway declared. "But all right. Clearly Cohen's privacy has already been breached. Since if there was any doctor patient confidentiality it would only stand to protect Cohen, it looks like it's too late for that, so the order is yours. And Rick, I expect to see you at the next get together at The Greeenleaf. All work makes Rick a dull writer.

"It's a date," Castle promised.

"Castle, what's The Greenleaf?" Kate asked as she drove back to Eternity.

"It's a club. Markaway is part of a group of us that get together to drink excellent scotch, eat cholesterol laden appetizers, and play cards.

"But you haven't played golf or been to The Greeleaf either in a long time?" Kate prompted.

"No," Castle confessed. "I've had other concerns. Besides I'd take a video game with you and Ian over a poker game with Markway and his cronies any day. Infinitely more satisfying and I'm not stuck with a hangover the next day."

"So why'd you promise to go?" Kate inquired.

"Because Markway has been my friend for a long time. He was there for me when Kyra died. Obsession with golf aside, he's a good man and I like him. He's worth making time for. And also, last time I was there, I was on a winning streak. I owe him a chance to get his money back."

Kate reached across the console to touch his hand. "That's sweet, Castle."

* * *

The storage section of Eternity reminded Castle of the pods that had been used to ship humans out for food for lizard people on a mini-series he'd seen. They were creepy yet fascinating. Rio wiped away the frost on one unit. "This is David Cohen."

""He looks peaceful," Castle observed. "If he had been set upon by someone bent on stealing his most precious possession, I would have expected fear or anger on his face."

"That is strange, Castle," Kate agreed.

"Most of our clients look quite peaceful," Rio remarked.

"Yeah, but how many of them have been shot?" Castle questioned.

"As far as I know, Mr. Cohen was the only one," Rio admitted.

"So where do we go from here?" Castle asked Kate.

"We get Lanie to examine the body. She can pull the bullets and we can run ballistics,"

"You may have some difficulty with that," Rio pointed out. "Since Cohen's legal status is uncertain, you will need permission from next of kin to perform any procedures."

Kate shrugged. "I can't imagine why his wife would object to tracking down his murderer."

* * *

"Absolutely not!" Golda declared. "If David is dead, then what you propose is an autopsy, which my religion forbids. "And if he isn't, if he could be brought back someday, then you would be mutilating him or sentencing him to death. Either way, there's no way I could allow it."

"Mrs. Cohen, don't you want us to track down whoever shot your husband?" Kate asked gently.

"Stupid question! Of course I do," Golda retorted, "but you're going to have to find another way. "David's body stays where it is, as it is, until I'm convinced that he can never return to normal life, at which point he would be buried until he is resurrected in Jerusalem. Now it would seem to me that you have a job to do. Please go and do it."

"Wow!" Castle exclaimed as he and Kate quit the premises. "I didn't see that coming. But I should have known by the wig and the clothes. She's heavy duty orthodox, and with David being a Cohen, that would make him a descendant of the high priests. There are all sorts of rules attached to that."

"Yeah Castle, I know. I went to Stuyvesant. A large percentage of the students were Jewish and we had a few like Golda."

"Smart girl. A lot of my buddies failed the test to get into the tech schools. But I would have pegged you more for Hunter. You've never seemed the sciency type.

"I wasn't. I was heading for pre-law," Kate explained "But my parents knew a lot of lawyers who graduated from Bronx Science, same curriculum as Stuy, except they admitted girls at the time and Stuy didn't. But by the time I was in high school, Stuy had become enlightened and it was closer than trekking up to the Bronx, so I went there. It meant taking almost twice as many credits as a normal high school but it made college seem kind of easy."

"Well then I assume you're putting your brilliant mind to the problem of how we figure out how to solve David Cohen's murder without having Lanie dig the bullets out of the body."

Kate sighed. "We'll do it the way we usually do it, Castle. We go back to the precinct and build a time line. Now that we know the timing on the van was correct, we can assume that the timing on the gunshots was too. We check all the video in the area for who came and went and have the unis run a canvass. We can check the subway cameras too, since Golda said Cohen took the subway. We might spot someone following him. Straight up police work."

"You think maybe some other cellist might have been jealous enough of Cohen's Stradivarius to want to steal it?" Castle wondered. "Jealousy is another great motive."

It's possible, Castle," Kate conceded. "We can talk to the other musicians he was working with and see if they can think of anyone." Kate started to turn around. "Maybe Golda can help us with that."

"Given our current approval rating, or lack of same with her, maybe it would be better to call her a little later." Castle suggested.

Kate pictured the angry flush on the older woman's face. "Castle, you may be right."

A/N If there's anyone out there who hasn't heard, Castle was canceled yesterday. I am so sad to see such a big chunk of my life go, but a lot of us are going to keep writing. So if you want more Castle, I'll be here. I'll be doing the summer ficathon, as will many other writers. The characters will be gone from the first run screen, at least in the US, but they will live in our hearts for a very long time. Rain just started pounding the roof. It's fitting somehow. We share something very special and can continue to do so. Love to you all.


	65. Chapter 65

Ian

Chapter 65

Castle sat side by side with Kate in front of the large screen in Tech. He pointed. "That young woman. She's turned up on both an ATM camera and a security camera in the few minutes before the shooting, but we don't see her afterward. Could she have been deliberately avoiding the cameras?"

Kate captured the image and printed it out. "I don't know, Castle. We only have side views, That probably won't be enough for facial recognition. She wasn't anywhere near a car, so traffic is out. We can try, but if she doesn't drive and she doesn't have a record, she wouldn't show up anyway. We may just have to show the picture around and hope we get lucky. And I think we both know who's the first person we should show it to."

We won't be able to," Castle pointed out. "It's Saturday, Kate. She'll be at her synagogue. If she's as observant has she seems to be, she won't even turn on the lights in her apartment until sundown. We should plan on seeing her then. In the meantime, I promised Ian we'd visit the Angelika. It's a double feature, Forbidden Planet and the original The Day the Earth Stood Still with Michael Rennie. Hey, you weren't even supposed to be on shift today anyway, were you? Want to come? Isn't the canvassing still going on?"

"Are you sure Ian would want me butting in, Castle?" Kate wondered. "Seems like father son time."

"As a matter of fact, he told me to ask you, if you weren't too busy. And Ian will have a bodyguard with him," Castle reminded her, "at least until we get confirmation from Nora Fremont on the identity of those bodies. So it's not like Ian and I will be a twosome. I'll buy you popcorn and candy," he coaxed.

"Actually Castle, I like getting my mouth around one those Nathan's hot dogs they sell at the theater," Kate confided, causing Castle to swallow hard at the mental image. "But sure, I'd like to come."

* * *

The theater was surprisingly crowded for the showing of movies anyone could get on DVD, but Castle managed to find four seats. Ian was flanked by Cory and Castle, with Kate on Castle's other side. Ian was fascinated with the early electronic pre-synthesizer sound effects and music for _Forbidden Planet_ , which were precursors to those that were used in Star Wars. Castle chortled at the then, dead serious, Leslie Nielsen as the spaceship's captain with a prudish disapproval of the short skirts of his love interest. Ian also noted that elements of the movie had been stolen almost whole cloth and used in both _Star Trek_ and _Babylon Five_.

Castle felt unease twisting his stomach as the allegory unfolded in _The Day the Earth Stood Still_. The xenophobia and eager exploitation by the media of the public's fear had remained virtually unchanged since the nineteen fifties. If anything they were worse, filling the airwaves twenty-four hours a day. The movie warned that humans were on the brink of destruction and as Castle's unfortunate association with fanatics like Fallon had shown, the means of destruction were frighteningly easy to obtain. And neither movie had even addressed the ecological threats which loomed now as well. He gazed at the boy beside him and wondered if there would be a world for Ian to inhabit. Triggering descending gloom had not been his intention when planning the day at the movies. He glanced at Kate. He'd kept his eyes stubbornly glued to the screen, in self defense, while she consumed her hot dog. She'd shared his Milk Duds and now was reaching over for a handful of his popcorn. Tiny grains of salt clung to slim fingers, shiny and orange with butter flavoring. He felt an urge to lick them clean, or at least take a taste, but pushed the impulse away. At least she was a superb distraction from the dark mood that had threatened to overtake him. He studied her lips, reddened from the salt, and admired the planes of her face. No wonder Ian loved drawing her. Her cheekbones were incredible. She'd tucked her hair behind her ear in a vain attempt to tame it, but locks escaped in multiple directions, It was too dark in the theater to see the color of her eyes, but he was guessing the hazel brown had taken on the greenish hue that appeared when she was excited. She drew him in a way completely different from any woman he'd ever known before. It wasn't just her physical beauty. He'd been approached at book parties by models just as gorgeous, but that held none of Kate's allure for him. It was her reality, the sense that what he saw was not a persona put on for the benefit of the male gender, but the true woman, with every flaw intact. Kate challenged the world to accept the woman she was, not the woman she might pretend to be. And Castle loved her for it.

It took him a moment to fully realize the implications of what he had been thinking. "Loved her?" Where had that come from? Except for what he felt for Ian and Martha, that feeling had never invaded his consciousness since Kyra. He'd liked Gina, at least until she'd shown her true colors, and she'd been fun in bed. He'd liked other women, but he hadn't believed he'd fall in love again. When Kyra died he thought that door had been welded shut forever. But what he felt for Kate was prying it open. He reached for her hand, salty and stained as it was. She seemed to be concentrating on the movie, but her fingers curled into his, sending tendrils of warmth up his arm. He leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes as the dialogue of the movie flowed over him, and wondered what he'd do next.

Having switched her cell phone off for the duration of the movie, Kate turned it on as the end of the credits rolled. There was a message waiting from Ryan. Nothing of note had turned up in the canvass except for someone who thought they saw a young woman carrying an instrument case. It had been described as a guitar case, but the witness wasn't sure. "Could have been a cello," Kate mused to herself. She noted the time. It wasn't sundown yet.

Castle nudged her with a touch of his shoulder. "Kate, Cory's going to take Ian back to the loft. They're going to split a pizza. They're both pepperoni fiends. You want to catch a bite somewhere before we talk to Golda Cohen?"

Kate was surprised that she could still be hungry after all the junk she'd consumed during the movies, but she was. And they had time to kill. "Sure Castle." Kate couldn't miss Castle's stare as she consumed her burger. "Castle, do I have ketchup on my face or something? You keep looking at me."

Castle shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn't ready to communicate the stunning realization he'd had in the theater. "No, just enjoying the view."

"Yeah, well you aren't so bad yourself, Castle. You're getting a little Don Johnson stubble. It's kind of sexy."

Castle rubbed a hand over his jaw. "Mmm, I'll remember that." His phone beeped an alert. "That's sundown. When we're finished here, we should be able to go see Golda Cohen."

* * *

Placing reading glasses on her nose, Golda regarded the image Kate had pulled from the video. The ample lines in her face deepened. "Is this some kind of a joke, Detective? Of course I know this girl. She's my granddaughter."

A/N Thank you all so much for the support. My keyboard will keep humming.


	66. Chapter 66

Ian

Chapter 66

"Mrs. Cohen, I can assure this is no joke, but do you have any idea what your granddaughter might have been doing in the area where your husband was shot?" Kate questioned.

Golda removed her glasses from her nose, letting them hang from a chain around her neck. "I can think of a couple of reasons why Ruth would have been there. She and her grandfather are very close and she loves to hear him play. She often attended his practice sessions when she had a chance. She and David also sometimes met for breakfast at a deli not far from the practice hall."

"Does your granddaughter play an instrument as well?" Kate continued.

Golda snorted. "She plays seven, four strings, two woodwinds, and piano. She definitely inherited David's talent. She's a composer too. She had been working on a cello concerto for David."

"Had?" Castle inserted.

Golda fiddled with the bows of her glasses. "Yes, she stopped after the second movement. She said that she wasn't sure about the progression of the piece but she planned on finishing it someday. Perhaps she will now in his honor. But what does any of this have to do with who shot my husband?"

"We have to cover all our bases, Mrs Cohen," Kate soothed. "If your granddaughter was the last one to see your husband before he was shot, she may have noticed something or someone that could help us find who shot him. "Do you have her contact information?"

Golda snorted again. "Well of course! She's my granddaughter! Her name is Ruth Cohen." Golda wrote Ruth's address and phone numbers in careful script on a notepad from a nearby desk, tore off the slip of paper and handed it to Kate. "Even if you're rude enough to try and talk to her tonight, you won't," Golda warned. "She's playing with a chamber group at Columbia."

"Thank you for your help, Mrs. Cohen," Kate responded, beginning to move toward the door. "I will keep that in mind."

Castle let out a breath as he and Kate headed for her unit. "And they say people mellow with age. I wonder what Golda was like when she was younger?"

"Anger may just be her way of coping with her husband's loss," Kate offered. "I've seen it a lot, talking to families of victims. Often it's directed at the killer, but sometimes it's directed at the police for not preventing a crime. You learn not to take it..." Kate was interrupted by a text from Esposito. "Hey, Espo's been talking to some of the other musicians David Cohen worked with. Cohen's concert tomorrow was canceled."

Castle gazed at her in confusion. "Of course it was, he's dead - or a frozen facsimile."

"No Castle, it was canceled before Cohen was shot. Espo said a lot of Cohen's concerts had been canceled. And from the way Golda was talking, I don't think she knew."

"Maybe Ruth Cohen did," Castle speculated.

"Well I'll ask her about that tomorrow, along with many other things," Kate declared. "Should I call you when I have something set up or do you have something going with Ian?"

"Other than our careful over waffles analysis of the Sunday morning comics, no" Castle replied. "He'll probably be spending the day at his drawing board and I believe Carl's on shift with him tomorrow. I was hoping to get some results from Nora Fremont, but she's run into some bureaucratic tangles. So I am all yours, Detective Beckett." Silently Castle added, "In more ways than you know."

Kate dropped Castle off at his loft, his parting kiss carrying more heat than either of them had expected. "Tomorrow," he murmured as she pulled away from the curb.

* * *

Cory was in his usual spot at the table, checking out the video feed from the building, on his tablet. He nodded as Castle came in. Castle took a calming moment, hanging his jacket in the hall closet before going upstairs to check on his son. Ian was busy sketching his vision of the Krell, the advanced but extinct species on _Forbidden Planet_ , but looked up when his father approached his open door. "Hey Dad! You and Detective Beckett find out anything else about the case?"

Castle shrugged. "Maybe. We have someone we need to question tomorrow."

"Cool," Ian acknowledged, returning to his artwork. "Well good night."

"Good night," Castle repeated.

Knowing that sleep would be close to impossible, Castle retreated to his office and flipped open his laptop. If he couldn't manage to confess his feelings to Kate, he could at least pour them out on the page. It was too early in the plot of either of his books to add love. Sex sure, but not love. He thought about a short story, but that didn't seem right either. He closed the laptop again and pulled an old bound notebook out of the bottom drawer of his desk. He hadn't written any poetry since Kyra died, but now seemed to be the time. The words flowed, filling page after page. Finally, drained but released, he put his pen down and was able to conceive of closing his eyes.

* * *

Ruth Cohen's small apartment looked more like a music studio. Most of the living room was taken up by a baby grand. Instruments were in cases and racks near a music stand. There was a tiny kitchen and two doors that led to the bedroom and bath. There was no mezuzah on the door frame and Ruth's hair was uncovered. It was clear that she was less religiously observant than her grandmother. "Yes, I saw my grandfather the morning he was shot," she confided. "We had tea and we were discussing a project I'm working on. Our chamber group is doing the music from a raunchy web series. My grandmother definitely doesn't approve. She considers it a waste of my talent. But Grandfather thought the whole thing would be fun. He even had some ideas for arrangements."

"Did you talk about anything else?" Kate inquired. "Was your grandfather disturbed or afraid of anything? Many of his concerts had been canceled recently."

Ruth rubbed the side of her nose with her finger. "No and I had no idea about the cancellations. We just talked about music. Then he went to practice. Sometimes I listen, but I wanted to get to work on his suggestions, so I decided to pick up my own cello here then go use one of the practice rooms at school. I try not to disturb the neighbors by playing too early in the day or too late at night."

"Did you see anyone who might have been following your grandfather, or anyone that looked suspicious?" Kate questioned.

"No," Ruth insisted. "Everything was normal. I'm really sorry I can't be more helpful, Detective."

"One more thing," Castle put in. "Your grandmother said your grandfather had his Stradivarius with him. Any idea what might have happened to it?"

Ruth rubbed her nose again. "I don't know but I would guess whoever shot him stole it."

Kate handed Ruth her card. "Thank you Ms. Cohen. If you think of anything, please give me a call."

"She's lying," Castle asserted as soon as the doors of the elevator taking him and Kate back to the lobby closed.

"Of course she is, Castle," Kate agreed. "Rubbing her nose like that was a tell that any rookie could catch. Besides, she was seen carrying an instrument case. It wasn't a guitar. She had about every string instrument but a guitar in her apartment. It must have been a cello. Why would she have to go back to her apartment to get her cello if she already had one?"

"So what's your next step?" Castle asked.

"We find out if Ruth Cohen owns or had access to a gun."


	67. Chapter 67

Ian

Chapter 67

Kate was at her desk staring at her computer screen when Castle arrived at the Twelfth on Monday morning. "And what is furrowing your exquisite brow?" he asked.

"Castle, Ruth Cohen doesn't own a gun, or at least not one that's registered. But David Cohen did, and he purchased it recently."

"So maybe he had it on him and the killer took it and used it against him," Castle speculated. "If he was going to carry around millions of dollars of cello, it wouldn't be unreasonable for him to want a gun for protection. Any word about anyone trying to fence the Stradivarius?"

Kate dug her teeth into her lip. "That's just it, Castle, no. And David Cohen didn't have a carry permit and he hadn't applied for one. If he wanted to protect himself, that's something he should have done."

"And there's the matter of Ruth Cohen being seen with the cello," Castle added.

"Exactly," Kate agreed. "Castle there's more to this story than we're seeing."

"Kate, I think David Cohen must have known he was going to die," Castle offered, "or maybe even wanted to. Look, he bought a gun, he canceled all those concerts including the one he was scheduled to play yesterday. He signed up with Eternity. Then he met with his granddaughter and she ends up with the cello. Something was happening. Kate, I think you should get his medical records."

"Castle," Kate protested. "Golda is going to fight that like a pit bull. A pit bull would be easier."

"So you don't go to Golda," Castle suggested. "Eternity would have them. They'd need them if they think they're going to resurrect him someday. And we've already established there's no right to privacy there." Castle mimed a Samba. "I think it's time to head for Rio,"

Kate groaned and glared at him, but reached to the back of her chair for her jacket."

* * *

"Yes we have David Cohen's medical records," Bartley Rio confirmed, "although they are highly technical. You may need medical personnel to interpret them for you."

"Perhaps you could give us the highlights, Doctor," Kate requested.

Rio sighed. "Fine. David Cohen had a disintegrative neurological condition. He was dying, but first, among his other symptoms, he was losing feeling in his fingers. He would have eventually become completely disabled, although his cognitive faculties would have been fully intact."

"He wouldn't have been able to play anymore and he would have been fully aware of it," Castle realized. "That would be worse than death to a musician like Cohen."

"Indeed," Rio agreed. "Our agreement with him was that he would not be brought back unless he could regain his musical abilities."

Castle slid into the passenger seat of Kate's vehicle as they prepared to leave Eternity. "Kate, I'm willing to bet the person to fill in the rest of this story is Ruth Cohen."

Kate pulled out her cell. "Right there with you, Castle. I'm going to have the unis bring her in."

* * *

Ruth Cohen's face was white as she faced Kate and Castle across the table in interrogation. "I don't understand why I'm here."

"I think you do, Ms. Cohen," Kate contended. "Why did you kill your grandfather?"

Tears flowed over Ruth's lashes and made their way in twin trails down her cheeks. "Grandfather realized something was wrong almost a year ago. The sound of his notes was off. The pitch was still perfect but he couldn't get the intensity he wanted. Things got worse and worse. Finally the doctors told him there was nothing they could do. He would lose all control over his body and know it was happening. He kept watching video of Stephen Hawking, thinking about what it would be like. But Stephen Hawking's instrument is his mind. It would have been so much worse for my grandfather. Making music was his whole life. He wanted to leave it now and come back whole some day. But he couldn't commit suicide. He didn't believe the way my grandmother does. But he knew she believed it would destroy him in God's eyes and he couldn't do that to her. He also knew as a musician I'd understand, so he got the gun and asked me to shoot him. And wanted me to take care of grandmother and to keep his cello until he returned, if he could come back. It broke my heart to pull the trigger, but I was just following his wishes."

Kate leaned across the table, lowering her voice almost to a whisper. "I understand, Ms. Cohen, but what you did is still against the law, whether your grandfather wanted it or not. I'm going to have to arrest you." Kate regretfully read Ruth her rights.

* * *

Castle returned to the loft a few minutes after Carl had brought Ian back from school. Carl was making a tour of the building to make sure the cameras hadn't been tampered with and no one who didn't belong there was on the premises. Pursuing his usual routine, Ian was shoving snacks into the microwave oven. He turned to his father. "Dad, you're kinda early. You and Detective Beckett solve your case?"

"We did," Castle confirmed.

"You don't look jazzed about it," Ian noted.

"It was a sad story," Castle confided. "Sometimes people have what seem to be the best reasons for doing the wrong thing, or at least what the law calls the wrong thing. In this case our killer was sure she was acting out of love."

"Do you think she was?" Ian asked.

"I do think she was." Castle confided. "I just hope the D.A. feels the same way. It may all still all work out someday. I really hope it does. The writer in me loves a happy ending."

"Yeah, I do too," Ian agreed, "it's too bad you and my mother didn't have one. Maybe you and Detective Beckett will."

"It's little early to think about that," Castle responded. "We haven't been together all that long and you're one of the few people who even knows we're dating."

Ian rolled his eyes. Come on, Dad. You and Detective Beckett are doing a lot more than dating, aren't you?"

"I think we are. To me it's more." Castle admitted, "I'm just not sure how she sees it."

"Then maybe you should ask her." Ian suggested.

Castle sighed. "Easier said than done. I need to find the right place and the right time."

"You'll figure it out Dad," Ian assured him. "And if you want me to get lost for a while, I can always catch more movies."

Castle pictured a night undisturbed with Kate, a whole night. Even if Ian did go to the movies, she would still be skittish about his return and even more uncomfortable about who'd be with him. Hopefully the second issue wouldn't last much longer. Castle just wasn't sure about the first. "That's very generous Ian, although I assume I'd be picking up the tab for the movies, but I'm afraid there's going to be more to it than that." Castle clapped a hand on his son's shoulder. "I'll figure it out."

Ian plopped a plate of miniature bagel dogs on the counter. "Here Dad. Scarfing something always helps get my brain moving."

Castle popped one of the savory snacks in his mouth. At that moment, he would take any help he could get.


	68. Chapter 68

Ian

Chapter 68

It was eleven P.M. New York time when Castle's phone dinged an alert for a text from Nora Fremont. Castle did a quick mental calculation. It was eight A.M. in The Maldives. Nora was brief and to the point. "Finally starting autopsy on presumed Ida Burnham. Let you know soonest, if I can confirm identity." Castle blew his breath out through his mouth, vibrating his lips. It would be a tough night. He didn't want to call Kate unless he had something and the possibility of sleeping while he waited was at zero, zip, and none. He couldn't lose himself in writing either. He was too distracted to produce anything but a mass of confusion. There was only one answer, late night television. He would definitely skip the news, but talk shows were already starting on cable. He also needed popcorn, lots of popcorn. The hosts and guests went by, with Castle barely noticing what movie they were pushing or book they were hawking. Finally he was bombarded by the false excitement of losing weight without exercising or changing your diet, and buying a boat with the profits from no money down real estate flips.

Castle's phone alerted him again at four A.M., gratefully interrupting the parade of pitchmen. The text leaped from the screen of his phone. The body Nora was examining had thinning bones with several small healed stress fractures. Nora had compared them to x-rays from Ida she had uploaded to the cloud before departing. The body was definitely Ida Burnham. Nora would be sending Castle a report and starting on the other two corpses.

Castle did a little dance in front of the TV. He didn't care about the other two bodies, although confirmation would be nice. "Not only is she merely dead, she's really most sincerely dead," he sang in an imitation of a Munchkin. He had to tell Kate, and not on the phone. Castle had never been inside Kate's apartment, but he knew where it was. Leaving a note on the counter for Ian, he went to find her.

* * *

Kate became vaguely aware of the pounding on her door. It was too damn early. She was tempted to put a pillow over her head until whoever it was went away. Then a voice penetrated the heavy wood. It was Castle. Castle was shouting and knocking at four damn thirty in the morning. She forced herself out of bed and sleepily shuffled her way to the door. "Castle, what the hell? What are you doing here?"

"She's dead!" Castle proclaimed, bouncing in the doorway.

Kate rubbed her eyes, struggling toward awareness. "Who's dead?"

"Ida Burnham, Nora Fremont just confirmed it. It's over Kate! The whole damn nightmare is over. The boogielady is gone."

Kate motioned Castle in while she stood a moment, processing what he said. "Really Castle? She's sure?"

Castle closed the door behind him. "She's sure Kate. No more looking over our shoulders. I haven't let Carl know yet, but Ian won't be needing any more bodyguards. It's done."

The import finally penetrated and Kate threw her arms around Castle's neck. "Oh thank God!" With no thought, their lips collided.

Kate tasted of sleep but Castle didn't care. He drew her hard against his groin, the heat of her body penetrating the thin fabric of her sleep shirt and panties. "Kate!" She plunged her fingers into his hair, drawing his mouth back to her own. Lifting a leg she began to climb his body, tearing at his shirt, sending buttons flying. He scooped her up in his arms, unconscious of any twinge from not quite healed chest muscles. "Where Kate?" he panted.

Kate pointed toward an open door. The queen bed was mussed from Kate's restless slumber and still warm from her body. They fell on it together, not wanting to loosen the hold on each other. The floor creaked beneath the bed as they rolled together, desperately pulling every frustrating barrier away. Atop Castle, Kate gazed down at the scar still prominent on his chest and pressed her lips to it, He cradled her from beneath as her mouth traveled downward to the most intimate kiss. She thrust her need against the firmness of his thigh while her tongue circled and laved, finally tasting one tiny shining drop. She rose briefly over him. As he reached for the pink tips, straining for his touch, he gasped as she sheathed him. His palms loved her breasts, as they moved together in the most ancient of rhythms, the floor continuing it's protests beneath the steady beat of springs. Kate could feel the change spreading within her, from the center of exquisite but urgent sensitivity outward, as each cell underwent the transformation of ultimate excitation. Sweat dampened her skin as the point of no return approached. Castle flipped her beneath him, their joining growing ever deeper. She gulped air as her body seized, and tremors raced through them both, leaving them spent and senseless.

Castle gathered his strength to release Kate from the burden of his weight and rolled beside her. As she borrowed into the side of his body, they both slept until the first rays of the sun pushed around the widow shades to intrude on their replete oblivion.

Castle pushed the hair from Kate's face as she opened her eyes. She reached up to cup his whisker roughened cheek. "Don't you need to get back to the loft? Ian will be waking up."

"I left him a note telling him I was going to tell you something important. He's known how to make breakfast since he was eight, younger if you count Poptarts® and toaster waffles. Cory took over the late shift and will take him to school. He'll be fine. He wanted me to talk to you anyway."

"About Ida Burnham?" Kate queried.

"No," Castle murmured. "He doesn't even know about that yet. But you know how perceptive he is. It can be scary sometimes. He often knows how I feel before I do. I never told him, but he figured out how I feel about you. I love you Kate. I love you so much that it tears at my insides and keeps me awake at night. I want you by my side. I want to build something with you, something real and lasting, but I need to know how you feel." He gestured at the bed. "We have this and it's incredible, mind blowing. But I want, I need, what's between us to be much more than that. So Kate, tell me honestly, please. What do you feel?"

Kate smoothed back a soft brown lock that had fallen across his forehead. "Castle, except for my father, I've never told a man I loved him. Wanted, needed, yes, but never loved." The tension burbled a giggle from her throat. "Oh God! I sound like a Meatloaf song!"

Castle pressed his lips together, lines bracketing his mouth. "Kate, I can't settle for 'Two Out of Three Ain't Bad.' I've been there before and believe me it is bad, it's very bad. So just tell me honestly, yes or no for number three."

Kate studied the emotion swirling in the ocean depths of his eyes. She'd never seen a look like that from anyone. She swallowed against the words caught in her throat, finally just holding up three fingers and nodding.


	69. Chapter 69

Ian

Chapter 69

Ian carefully picked up every crumb that had fallen to the floor and the counter from his sandwich. After the crew his father had hired were finished, the loft had never been cleaner and Ian didn't want to be the one to mess it up. There were hours to go yet. The roof garden was still being arranged. Ian didn't think he had ever seen so many flowers. The caterers had just arrived and tables and chairs were delivered to the roof and the loft, to be set up for the reception. As the official visual historian, Ian had checked out the caterer's truck, quickly sketching the inside and outside as well as the bustling staff. The savory aromas drifting from the pans had urged him to assuage his sudden yen for a snack. He was sure that what was under the foil covers in no way resembled peanut butter and jelly, but it would do. The ceremony was scheduled at dusk and twinkle lights had been strung on the roof the night before. It all seemed very fairytale to Ian. He would have preferred something closer to swords and sorcery, with Kate the warrior princess and his father the prince, but his father and Kate seemed happy and so did at least one of his grandmothers, and that was good, great really. Ian finished his sandwich and wiped up carefully one more time before grabbing his sketchbook and taking the elevator to the roof.

* * *

Kate pulled at her dress. "Lanie, it wasn't this tight when I tried it on two weeks ago. It was perfect."

"And in those two weeks how many canapes did you have to sample and pass judgment on, Kate?" Lanie demanded.

"Two, I think," Kate replied. "I was busy on a case. Castle took care of all that. He took care of almost everything, actually. He just kept having Ian make sketches of what was going to happen, to make sure I would approve. I haven't really been eating that much of anything."

Lanie's brows rose. "Really?" She turned to Castle's mother who was pulling a jewelry case out of her purse. "Martha, can you help Kate? I need to go get something."

"Of course," Martha declared, also pulling out her cell phone and exchanging quick texts while Lanie hurried out the door. "Kate, you will have expert help. Neddy, the costume genius from my play is coming here right now. That dress will fit like a couture gown." Martha stared at Kate's face. "You're looking a little washed out. I'll do your make-up. Believe me, after the mm mm years of practice I've had, you will outshine any diva that struts the red carpet."

"I just want everything to be perfect for Castle, you know," Kate worried, turning to the mirror and pulling at her dress again.

"I understand, And it will be," Martha assured her, "although to him you'd look perfect in a potato sack and a clown nose. After Kyra died I never thought I'd see that kind of joy on Richard's face again, but he glows every time you walk in the room." Martha extended the jewelry box. "I can't even begin to express how grateful I am to you for that. So I want you to wear this. My grandmother wore it, my mother wore it, and so did I. I never got the chance to give it to you the first time, so I'm hoping you'll wear it now."

Kate opened the box to reveal the fire of a ruby on a golden chain. "Oh Martha, it's just beautiful and I will be honored to wear it."

"Put it on," Martha urged. "We'll want to make sure your hair is up in a way that doesn't get caught on the clasp. I can work on that now." Neddy should be here in just a few minutes."

Martha had attempted two different styles when Lanie returned. "Kate, come with me," she commanded, leading the way to the bathroom.

"Lanie, what?" Kate puzzled.

Lanie handed her a drugstore bag. "Before the champagne starts pouring, you should do this. Outside of the lab, it's the one that gives the earliest results."

Kate pulled out the pink box. "Lanie you think? I'm on the pill; you know that. But in the heat of some of the cases, I have missed a couple."

"That can be all it takes Kate. Pee on the stick," Lanie urged. "We'll know in a couple of minutes."

Kate twisted a towel in her hands while the seconds on the timer on Lanie's phone ticked by in slow motion. Finally the result appeared. Kate stared disbelievingly at the plus sign. "Wow. I should go tell Castle. I'm not sure how he'll feel about this."

Lanie rolled her eyes and bobbed her head back and forth on her neck. Are you kidding? The way he is with kids, he'll be thrilled. But you need to get your dress fixed and let Martha finish fussing over you. And he's busy supervising everything upstairs. You can tell him when he comes down to get his monkey suit on."

* * *

Kate regarded herself in the mirror. The ruby around her neck glowed against the background of her now expertly adjusted dress. Her hair and makeup were perfect, too perfect. She had to remind herself not to chew her lip. Castle pushed through the door and stopped short, just staring at her. "The sunset, the moon, the stars, will pale in comparison to you."

"Um Castle," Kate began, almost inaudibly. "there's something I need to tell you."

He strode to her, cupping her cheek. "Kate you can tell me anything, you know that. Although at this point the damage is already done."

Kate covered his hand with her own. "More than you know Castle. Uh Lanie, she um just made me take, um, you know - a test?"

"What kind of a...?" Realization struck Castle "A pregnancy test? Kate are you pregnant?"

Kate nodded silently. "Well that's terrific!" Castle exclaimed with a grin that captured his whole face. "Or I mean, do you feel okay? Is that why Lanie told you to do it? Are you sick? Because Kate, we can postpone this. We can send everyone home if you're not feeling up to it."

Kate smiled, tracing his lips with her fingers. "Castle I'm fine, it was just the dress was tight, but Martha's friend fixed it. Are you all right?"

"All right? Kate I want to go back up to the roof and beat my chest. But there's no time for that. I can never get my tie straight and I need to help Ian get his on too. Wow, I'm glad I ordered sparkling cider for him, his new girlfriend, and your father. You can drink it too and keep Ian's new sibling safe. Ian is going to love this. He's never been able to get drawing babies right and he's asked me when he was going to have a brother or sister to practice on."

Kate was incredulous. "Really? He never said a word to me."

"I told him not to, Kate. It has always been up to you."

* * *

Ian tried hard to remember not to pull at the neck of his tux as he stood under the arch of purple flowers next to his father and facing Lanie and Kate. Judge Markway cleared his throat. "When Rick and Kate came to me a year ago asking for a judicial waiver so they could get married that morning, I had my doubts. They had been through dangerous and stressful times and I wasn't sure they were thinking straight. But Rick had already bought the rings and I knew they were going to do it anyway, so I signed the order. And now I am proud to preside over a renewal of the promise they made that day. Rick and Kate have both written their own vows and will speak them now before all of you. Kate, you may begin."

"My love, you were there for me before we ever met. Your words brought me through the worst of times. You've opened my eyes to so much and you've opened my heart to even more. I love you with a passion I never dreamed I could experience and every day with you it grows stronger. I want to be at your side as your wife and your partner. And whatever happens, I will be your biggest fan, always."

"My love," Castle responded, "before we met, I thought I'd never fall in love again. But you overwhelmed me. Your beauty springs from an inner light that will never be eclipsed. Your intelligence challenges me every day. You are my wife, my partner, my inspiration, an endless wellspring for my passion, and will be, always."

Needing permission from no one, Castle kissed his wife.

From a roof across the street, a man watched the proceedings through a scope. Finally he lifted his head and ran his fingers through his plentiful white hair. His face creased more deeply and the lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled. He popped a cork on his own bottle of champagne and toasted his son and daughter-in-law. Richard got this one right.

Finis

A/N I'm ending this for now because I can't wait to get started on filling in the seven year gap the Castle writers have left us. Tomorrow will begin Castle future history. Canon will be intact as background, but of course the story will be new. So join me for "Life Goes On." Even if Castle has left ABC, it will never leave our hearts. And unless I get hit by a truck this summer, Ian will be back.


End file.
